


She Wolf

by happycookiie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Character Death Fix, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mental Instability, Porn With Plot, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 68,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happycookiie/pseuds/happycookiie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't think he'd ever see her again. But there she is, alive and fierce within the walls of Alexandria; hair cut short and face lined with battle scars. But she's with them - the Wolves, and the residents of the safe zone think she's dangerous. But Daryl doesn't care. Not when he has her howling like a wolf under his touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Howl of the big bad wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowstormjonerys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowstormjonerys/gifts).



> Based on the theory that if Beth comes back she is with the Wolves, my attempt at exploring that plotline. This originally started out as a one-shot for Bethyl Smut Week on tumblr and my ff.net, but I decided to expand it.
> 
> This story is set after Beth is revealed to be alive, and covers Daryl's thoughts on it from his POV. As well as their attraction towards each other and the new problem they've found themselves in with the dispute between Alexandria and the Wolves. Hope you like it.
> 
> WARNING: Heavy sexual content, violence, death, and character exploration ahead. You have been warned. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth is back and at the safe zone, and that night Daryl ponders on what she means to him, when he spots her sneaking off into the dark. And like he always does... he follows. And gets more than he bargained for, when their relationship is thrust forward into entirely new territory Daryl isn't sure how to approach.

It was pitch black and the middle of the night when Daryl woke up in a cold sweat, shoulders heaving and breathing heavy. He ran a hand through his long oily hair and exhaled slowly, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he tried to clear his thoughts. It'd been that dream again. That same fucking dream he just couldn't stop having. That dream consisting entirely of a bullet; a blonde; and trails of deep red blood.

He sat up with a groan and threw his legs off the bed he was forced to sleep in one of their group's houses at Alexandria. With a heave of his body, he had hauled himself up from the bed and strode over to the open window. He pressed his palms flat on the wooden, unbearably clean, ledge and stared out into the dark. His thoughts wandered to  _her_... with her sister in the other house, and he wondered what she was doing. He had been wondering that since earlier that day. Wondering about her.

About  _ _Beth__.

It had been an essentially fucking mad day in Alexandria, as its gates had opened for a particular bulletproof blonde to stride right in behind Rick and Morgan; beautiful and strong, with dark scars charring her face to mark her survival. Rick and Morgan had come across her outside the walls whilst tracking a bizarre group of individuals who called themselves:  _ _'The Wolves'__. They'd provided to be pretty bothersome actually: leaving messy graffiti everywhere; decapitated walker torsos lying around everywhere with huge  _ _'W'__ s carved into their foreheads... And recently, they'd been screwing around with the walls of the safe zone, picking away at them and trying to make tiny holes for walkers to get in through... Trying to make flaws in the system.

They weren't exactly a force to be reckoned with, that held any particular fire power to be threatening... They were just plain annoying.

But now... they'd discovered who happened to be tagging along with them. Their very own little  _Beth Greene_ , who they'd all thought dead mere months ago... No, not thought, his mind corrected... who they'd all  _l_ _ _eft__  for dead. They'd left her there in the trunk of a car on the ruined streets of Atlanta, desperately fleeing from a massive herd of walkers that had roamed into the city unexpectedly and caught them off guard. That guilt... the guilt of  _leaving_  her, weighed heavily on Daryl's and the rest of the group's shoulders. Daryl's especially. And even more so after a few of them went back once the area was clear to find said trunk empty.

Her whereabouts after that had remained unknown to them. Devoured by walkers... buried... alive... They would never know, and that's what weighed the heaviest on Daryl. How he'd spent so long looking for her... So long believing in her... To finally find her, and then lose her again right afterwards. She was as elusive as a wolf, he'd give her that much.

He'd forgotten to breathe when she'd walked right back into her lives, with a machine gun strapped to her small frame, and told them she'd been scavenging with the very group they'd been having problems with.  _ _Running with wolves__. Surviving, when they'd all dismissed her as dead. She had a tendency of doing that, Beth,  _surprising_  him. Well maybe in this case,  _ _surprising__  was a bit of an understatement. She'd very nearly blown his mind up, like hers did repeatedly with a gunshot in the twisted web of his nightmares that haunted him every time he closed his eyes at night.

 _ _"We can't trust her."__  Was what Deanna had said after meeting her and hearing of how she was a member of those hooligan Wolves.

He'd given her the glare of the fucking century for that, sending a chill down Aaron's spine as he stared at the blonde girl with the big doe eyes and scars, and tried to place just what she meant to Daryl. Now Daryl knew Aaron was no idiot. The man had been trying to figure him out for weeks; trying to work out how he ticked and why he did the things he did. Almost as if he was some mystery left to be solved. And upon seeing her, and seeing how Daryl reacted at seeing her again... Aaron  _knew_. He did. He was good at just  _ _knowing...__  Kind of like Beth was. Somehow, Aaron had managed to read him, despite the walls he'd built up to protect himself from a place like Alexandria. Perhaps it was the return of the little Beth Greene though that had lowered those defences and allowed Aaron a peek inside - a glance into his story. And he just  _got it_.

 _ _"She's our family,"__  was Rick's firm retort,  _ _"We trust her."__

__"Family or not, she won't be the same girl you knew after travelling with this group of scavengers. Do you even know what they do, Rick?"_ _

The Wolves were a group of scavengers, like she'd said, who survived kind of like  _parasites_ in a way. They latched onto bigger, more developed communities, and bled their resources dry and fed from them like that. Stealing their food resources... building walker herds up against the walls like what had happened at the prison fences... Before eventually, those communities would just crumble away into nothing and fall...

 _Just_  like the prison.

Daryl wouldn't let that happen again. Wouldn't lose another home, even if this one didn't feel entirely like one to him. Even if he loathed the place, it still meant something because it was home to Rick, to Carl, to Carol, and the others. Even if he didn't want to save it for him, he would save it for  _ _them__.

But this with Beth had complicated things. Normally in a situation like this. Daryl would just suggest rounding them all up in some kind of trap and executing them... Or that's what he  _would_  have suggested a long time ago. But that's not what  _Beth_ had taught him. She'd taught him that people  _ _mattered__ , that their lives weren't just disposable. She wouldn't just slaughter them all just because they could, she would work her way around it. Or at least... that's what he  _thought_  she would do.

He wasn't the only one that had changed out of Beth and him. She too had taken a turn. A sinister one. There was something different about her; something darker,  _ _harder__ _._ He remembered noting that she  _looked_  different when he first saw her - face lined with scars, once long silky blonde locks cut shorter so that they fell just at her shoulders... And it wasn't just the way she looked either. It was the way she carried herself; the way she spoke... Her overall behaviour actually.

Something had happened to her in that hospital and afterwards... Something that had changed her in a way that scared the living daylights out of him. Because this wasn't the Beth he needed to anchor himself to hope. For gone was the said hope he'd once seen in her eyes, and gone was the song from her voice. Now... There was only hardness and a distant demeanour that he didn't know how to handle. And without her naive and hopeful way that he'd admired so, he was at a loss what to do. Because she was the  _light_ , the only way out. And with that light dimmed, Daryl couldn't see the way anymore. And that really fucking frightened him.

 _ _"Different or not, she's still Beth."__ Had been Rick's fierce hiss to Deanna's awkward insistence.

__"We owe it to her to give her our trust."_ _

They did. They did owe that to her at least. After leaving her alone in the trunk of a car in the abandoned streets of Atlanta, with hungry walkers swarming her unconscious form.. They owed her their trust  _at least_. She had proven by making it on her own that she was fully capable of handling herself, that she  _was_ tough. And perhaps now the rest of the group would see that too. See the strength that he had seen in her during their time together after the fall of the prison. Because she  _ _had__  made it, and she  _ _was__  strong.

Interestingly, it was in that moment that he noticed the very object of his thoughts sneaking out of the other house their group owned, and slinking off down the moonlit road, machine gun strapped over her shoulders and a pack slung on her back.

He stepped into his boots and slipped out of the house he shared with Rick and the other half of the group after her, knife strapped to his belt with her smaller one resting beneath it. He still hasn't given her it back yet, though he doubted she'd need it with that massive motherfucker strapped to her, loaded with bullets.

She crept down the empty streets of Alexandria like a wolf, fitting she should be with a group with that title actually. Her body was lean and graceful as she snuck about the place, treading quiet careful footsteps over the gravel in her cowboy boots to avoid making too much noise. She seemed intent on not drawing attention to herself.  _ _Where was she going?__ _h_ e wondered, as he stayed close on her tail, but not close enough for her to be made aware of his presence. He was too curious to where she was going and what she was doing to give his position away just yet. He would wait...

And he didn't have to wait long before he figured out what she was doing, as she journeyed all the way to the front of the safe zone to its gates. Turning her head back to check for anyone (like him) that could possibly be following her, she looked around carefully. When she found no one, she walked towards the lever that opened the gate and reached out to pull it, before a voice called out from the shadows of the night unexpectedly and made her stop dead in her tracks.

" _Wait_ ,"

Beth turned, her short hair almost white in the moonlight and her eyes glinting silver as they met with his dark greys. She looked almost guilty as she looked at him, hands resting on the huge gun she carried and squeezing it tightly. Guilty for being discovered. He hoped she  _did_  feel guilty. Like hell he was going to let her slip away like that after all that had happened. She must've been mad if she thought he'd allow it. Well that's probably why she snuck off in the dead of the night, he thought, to avoid his and Maggie's wrath.

"The hell're you thinking!?" he hissed, striding closer to her, "Ya can't do this! ... Not after everythin' that's happened."

She raised a finger to her lips to tell him to be quiet, and hissed back. "You don't understand, Daryl. I  _ _have__  to!"

" _Why_!?"

It came out more desperate and anguished than he'd intended it to, and he coughed awkwardly at the face she was making. Her and her fucking faces... Oh god.

Sadness swirled in her eyes as she shook her head and opened her mouth. "I have to do this... Don't question it, I just do. Please don't hate me for it... I have to..." When his scowl only deepened and his eyes narrowed, her eyes flooded with hurt. "Daryl... listen-"

"No Beth,  _ _you__  listen!" he snapped.

He was angry now. Angry at her, angry for what had happened, angry at Dawn and her dumbfuck trigger-finger, angry at Noah for taking her place (petty as it was), and angry at  _ _himself__  for not being able to save her.  _ _For failing her__.

"Ya don't just get to walk back into our lives when we're here thinkin' you're dead, an' then jus' leave like it's no big deal! Can ya really do this? To Maggie? To Judith? ... To  _ _me__?"

"You're actin' like I have a  _ _choice__! Do you really think I'd do this if I did!?"

He made a half amused, half pissed gesture with his hands as he waved them around. "I dunno anymore! Ya sure as hell ain't the same as ya were back before you was in that damned hospital! You've changed big time, Beth. With your hard ass attitude an' shit."

"You don't know what the hell happened in there!" she screamed, forgetting about being quiet. Luckily there weren't any houses nearby so hopefully no one would hear. Although since they were shouting pretty loudly now that was pretty unlikely. Great, the last thing he needed as an audience. "I had to change to survive, to  _ _make__ _it_! Especially since the people I thought were my family left me stuffed in the trunk of some run down car for dead!"

He was taken aback at that, and stood staring into her eyes that were filled with such rage. The rage of hurt. Like back when they outside the moonshiner's shack, and she had screamed at him with the same fiery look in her eyes. Defending herself as he called out on every weakness she had.

She didn't stop there. "Every day I was out there lookin' for signs of you all, searchin' for something that would give me some clue to where you were... That you were  _ _alive__! I never gave up looking, but you...  _None_  of you came lookin' for me, did ya? You were all just sittin' nice and cosy here in this... in this pristine an' perfect...  _ _SANCTUARY__!"

He interjected, "Now that's not true-"

"Even before." she cut him off harshly, "Back after the fall of the prison... Everybody thought I was dead then. Rick... Maggie... None of 'em believed I'd made it out alive. They all thought I was dead. 'Cause I was just this sheltered little girl that just looked after Judith all the time... incapable of takin' care of myself...  _ _Weak__... But I'm not."

__She didn't know it... But she was._ _

"At Grady... No one came to my rescue. No prince in shining armour rode in to save the day like they did in all those storybooks my Mom use to read me back at the farm... No one... 'Till Carol got herself holed up in there too... And then suddenly there you all were; like  _magic_. Here to save the day... Here to save  _ _her__."

"Beth we came for-"

"No Daryl!" Her eyes had filled with unshed tears as she screamed, fists balled at her sides and teeth bared...  _Like a wolf_. "I know what you're gonna say... an' I don't care." Her lower lip trembled as she spoke in a wobbly voice. "Every day I waited,  _ _believed__  with every ounce of my being that one of you would come and save me... Come get me out of that twisted place... But none of you ever did. So I  _stopped_  believing, and tried to save  _myself_. I got Noah out... I could'a gotten myself out too. I could'a..."

"I  _ _know__  you could'a." he agreed, voice softer; quieter. "I don't doubt that for a second, Beth."

She stopped her frantic ranting and just looked at him, tears thick and glistening in her eyes, wobbling at the edges of her eyes and threatening to spill.

He took a few steps closer to that he was standing just in front of her. "I know you can take care of yourself... But don't ya  _ _ever__  say that I gave up on ya, 'cause I  _ _never__ _fucking_ did. I ran after that car you we're taken in  _all_  night... Believed in ya every day... I didn't give up on you 'cause I knew you was strong, an' that you'd take care of yourself... An' back in Atlanta, after the hospital... I  _ _did__  go back to that car where we left you... I went back for ya... _but you weren't there_ , Beth! You weren't..."

His voice cracked as he gazed right into her tear-filled eyes, and he shook his head slowly. "...I can't lose you again..."

A thick droplet rolled down her cheek as she stared up at him, lips parted in shock at his words, heart hammering away in her chest. A cool wind blew through the area in that moment, and picked up the short strands of her hair and played with the ends. Strands of gold dancing in the night. Another tear broke free from her eyes and slid down the cheek with the scar, catching on the dark line and glistening... Before she smiled painfully, flashing teeth.

"You won't..."

She closed the remaining distance between them and covered his lips with her own, more tears dripping down her cheeks as she closed her eyes and pressed her palms softly onto his chest. His breath came out as a choked sob as he breathed into her mouth, hand slowly coming up to cup her elbow... Much like he had done upon the first hug she had ever given him. When he had ventured into her cell and told her of Zach's unfortunate demise. Way back at the beginning of their story...

__I don't cry anymore, Daryl._ _

She'd shown multiple times that that wasn't true, and he could feel her tears dampening his own cheeks even now as they were pressed flush onto his face, as she kissed him. But this didn't make her weak. Crying wasn't weak, was another one of the things she'd taught him. It was okay to cry. It was okay to give a crap about things, and  _ _show__  that he gave a crap. Because he sure as hell fucking  _ _did__  give a crap when it came to  _her_.

His arm snaked around her waist and the other wound itself around the back of her head, and his fingers threaded into her blonde locks. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up further on the tips of her toes, pushing her mouth roughly against his and swiping her tongue around deep inside the hot cavern of his mouth. He groaned onto her tongue, his own stretching out to lap against hers, the two curling around each other fiercely, deepening the kiss' intimacy.

She was really fucking  _good_  at kissing, he thought as he sucked on her bottom lip and dragged his teeth along it, drawing a breathy moan from her in response. They parted for a second to just gaze into each other's eyes in an almost cliché fashion, before he planted more softer kisses on her mouth, holding tight onto her waist and hips. It was with those soft kisses that he was trying to tell her all the things he couldn't say out loud.

 _I want you_  …  _I need you_  …  _I'm sorry_.

"C'mon," she rasped against his lips, hands moving down to lace her fingers through his and tug him back in the direction they came.

"I thought you was leavin'...?" he breathed, cheeks hot from her kisses as she pulled him down the empty road back towards their group's two houses.

She tugged him by his fingers and quickened her pace, lips puffy and swollen from being fastened to his mouth. "Tomorrow..." she whispered, "I'll leave tomorrow."

He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to ask the question he wasn't quite sure he wanted the answer to, but at the same time he really did. "An' jus' what exactly are ya gonna be doin' until then, huh?"

She glanced back at him over her shoulder; silver flames dancing in her eyes like starlight, and hair bouncing at her shoulders as she pulled him along. A coy smile spread out across her lips as she squeezed his fingers.

"... I'll leave that up to you, Mr Dixon..."

 __Fuck_ _ _._

They burst into the house that Maggie  _wasn't_  in, since she'd probably try to castrate him if she ever found out what he and her precious baby sister were doing. Or rather,  _ _planning__  to do at least. And quite frankly, Daryl quite wanted to keep his balls. He'd need them for what was coming soon as Beth was pulling him along frantically. But all thoughts of punishments from the elder Greene sister left his mind as Beth shoved him up against a wall inside and covered his mouth with her own again, this kiss hot and soul probing. He dragged her against him by her hips and cupped her ass with his palms, as he sucked at her lips harshly. Her heat was cradling his impressive erection deliciously right now, and he groaned as she rocked against him slowly, hips rolling in a circular motion.

She glanced up at him through thick smoky lashes and gave him that fiery look,  _oh_  so filled with lust and desire. And he was leading her swiftly to the bedroom he slept in, trying not to make too much noise since there did happen to be other people unfortunately sleeping in the vicinity. Daryl panicked a little. It had been a long time since he'd had sex, a fucking long time indeed, and he wasn't sure just how much noise he and Beth were going to make... He had avoided sharing a house with Glenn and Maggie for a  _reason_.

When finally outside his door, he pressed her flat against the cold wood of the door and was sucking her neck, leaving a trail of kisses and saliva all the way down the smooth column of her neck. An almost growl escaped her throat at his administrations; an animalistic snarl of carnal sexual satisfaction.

Her pupils were huge when he lifted his head to look at her, normally doe blue eyes nearly fully black. Dark; lust-filled;  _ _hungry__.

She let off a throaty chuckle at his expression and pulled him in through the door to his room. He was sure to close it behind him to muffle some of the sounds they were going to be making, before going back to kissing her. His vest was off in a matter of seconds, thrown to the floor in a blind frenzy of passion; along with his shirt.

He stepped out of his boots and sat her down on the bed so he could work at untying her brown cowboy boots, tossing them aside with his own once they were off, and peeling her yellow leg warmers down her ankles too. With her dainty feet now bare, he crawled up and stuck his tongue right back into her mouth, hand sliding up her white crop top and caressing the soft flesh beneath with his rough calloused hands.

She laid back on the bed and pulled him down on top of her so that he was straddling her waist, with her hands pressed flat against his bare chest as they kissed.

" _Daryl_..." she whispered breathily against his lips, as he pulled the white top over her head and tossed it aside, moving down to tug her worn ripped jeans down her thighs. She practically hummed when his hands wandered to her back and fumbled around to unclasp her bra, desperate to get her out of every insulting item of clothing she had on.

They had time, but Daryl didn't want to wait. He had waited enough. And he wanted Beth to know every ounce of emotion he felt for her. He needed to show her what he couldn't express with words.

 _I want you. I need you. I'm_ sorry _. I'm so fucking sorry._

He peeled the dirty and stained bra off to reveal her small pink perky nipples standing to attention, and lowered his mouth to plant gruff kisses around the dark fleshy rings. She whimpered as he lapped at one of the hardened peaks with his hot tongue, and fisted her hand into his hair to try shoving him down further onto her breast. This encouraged him, as he worked harder on her sensitive spot, swirling his tongue around the pointed nipple and grazing his teeth over it teasingly. She dragged her fingers through his hair and gasped at the sensations, body arching up eagerly.

His mouth unfastened from that breast with an audible  _ _smack!__  and he moved to work on the other, relishing in her writhing form beneath him. Slowly coming undone under the work of his tongue. Daryl had never felt the need to satisfy a woman's needs so much before his own before... Never felt obliged to make her feel fantastic unless it helped to further fuel his own pleasure... But with Beth, every soft moan and whimper she made sent jolts of electricity and fire surging throughout his entire body, and thrilled him to no end. He wanted her to enjoy every second of this... for her to feel wanted; needed; cherished;  _ _worshipped__... And his own pleasure meant nothing when it was compared to hers.

"Daryl," she said again, this time pushing at his chest in an apparent attempt to get him to sit up. He wondered briefly if he had done something wrong, before he felt her hand press firmly onto the frontal bulge in his bottoms, and rub to generate a delicious friction that had him almost cumming right there in his pants like a little horny school boy.

" _ _Fuck__ , Beth..." he hissed as she rubbed again, hands then working to unbuckle his belt and slide his torn up bottoms down his legs and toss it onto the pile of clothes on the floor.

She then undid his fly and released his raging erection for her bright eyes to marvel at, her eyes shining with lust as she suppressed a moan just from looking at it. He felt his cheeks darken with heat as she stared at him, before looking up to meet his gaze and flash him a smile that spread all the way up to her big bright eyes.

"You're beautiful..." she said quietly, hand moving to curl her fingers gently around his shaft.

Her head cocked to the side as she fastened her hand around his length, and moved it up and down experimentally. Her smile widened when he moaned, and she gazed up at him through dark lashes with that seductive look on her face.  _Damn_ , that was a look that suited her alright. How was she so fucking good at this? Knowing exactly what he liked... what made him feel good... She even knew how to  _ _look__  at him in a way that filled his stomach with butterflies and made his chest do those tiny little flips. Like he used to get before when it was just the two of them. In tiny moments of happiness, when she would flash him a smile, or their fingers would brush accidentally... And he would feel that faint fluttering in his chest. Like his heart were a tiny bird, fluttering it's tiny wings in the cage of his ribs.

"... _ _Beth__..." he whined in complete awe, tilting his head back as her strokes on his cock became firmer and harder. "Aw Beth...  _F_ _ _uck__..."

"That's good, huh?" she smirked, planting a breathy kiss to his open mouth and trailing her lips down his chest until she reached his lower abdomen right above his shaft.

She started at the base of his penis, first letting her tongue dart out to give him a couple of experimental licks before she slowly engulfed the tip into her mouth...  _O_ _ _h__  her hot, scorching mouth around his throbbing dick and... G _od_ it felt so  _ _good__ _._ _ _She__ _felt so good._ He growled as he threw his head back further and hissed in ecstasy. She took him as far into her mouth as he would fit, providing that he wasn't exactly the smallest when it came to down there, her tongue swirling around the hard length of him and sucking in such an intense mannerism he was sure it should be illegal. His hands pushed at the back of her head and held her hair at base of her neck, shoving her down further to take more of him into her hot little mouth, soft gagging sounds coming from her as she sucked.

She unwrapped her lips from around his painfully swollen cock, releasing him with a  _ _pop!__ , and watched the pre-cum leaking from his tip. She lapped it up with her tongue and then crawled up to straddle his lap and look into his eyes.

"...You liked that?..." she asked timidly, her cheeks flushed pink and hair all ruffled from the work of his hands.

He answered her by covering her mouth with his own, wet and fierce; tongue desperate as it explored the depths of her mouth that had just previously been gloriously sucking his dick. His manhood pressed against the fabric of her panties and rubbed against her sex, hips rolling in an electrifying friction that had her gasping against his lips and threading her fingers into his hair. Her hands cradling his head was forceful, but gentle in its own way. Like she was holding him again, just as she had outside the moonshine shack when he'd fallen apart.  _Held him back together_. She was what held him together. Always. What had changed his mind, she'd asked, eyes bright and filled with curiosity. How had she not known the answer to that without needing to ask?

_You, Beth._

_Of course it's you._

_It'll always be you._

"Take 'em off," he rasped, obviously referring to her offensive underwear.

She did as he'd told and slid the thin material down her legs and tossed it aside, now bare pussy being pulled flush across his hard-on. Her moans came out as half strangled sobs as he kissed her long and hard, hands tugging in her hair and pushing her back down to lie on the bed. She squeezed his hips with her thighs and sucked on his tongue, hands wandering everywhere. His cheeks, his shoulders, his chest.

He broke away from her lips and lined himself up with her slick opening, eyes dark and filled with want as he looked at her. She stared back at him with an equal intensity in her almost black eyes; dark and feral. _L_ _ _ike a wolf's__. And she leaned up so that her mouth was just by his ear, and blew a soft puff of air into his cavern that sent a wonderful shudder running down his spine. Her teeth then latched onto his fleshy lobe and suckled on it, tongue occasionally licking up the shell of his ear ever so slowly, her chest pressing up against his as her body arced upward to engulf the tip of his ear between her lips.

"What're you waiting for, Daryl...?" she breathed into his ear, hips rolling against his to create more of that fantastic friction.

His eyes flashed with a lascivious shine and he latched his hands onto her hips and pulled her up against him, the head of his cock just touching her entrance. "... _ _Nothin__ '." he growled.

And he slid deep into her scalding pussy, and sighed breathily at the contact finally. She felt fucking  _ _fantastic__  - tight and hot, inner muscles squeezing the length of him as he slid in even further.

Her head fell backward deeper into the sheets as she let out a deep moan of sheer rapture. She shifted her hands from tangled deep in his hair, and let one grasp his pelvic bone for support as the other grasped the pale sheets tightly as she writhed beneath him in absolute euphoria. She practically howled into the night as he slowly began to thrust in and out of her, body building a thin layer of sweat as she closed her eyes and let off soft pants through passion-bruised parted lips.

"Ah fuck...  _Beth_...!" he cursed, thrusting long and hard into her warmth, dark hair falling into his eyes and coating with sweat that dripped down into his face. He caught her lips as he thrust into her, breaths intertwining and mixing, teeth clashing clumsily.  _But it was perfect_. Everything about it was perfect. The clumsiness, the desperation, the burning... All of it. Because it was  _her_.

She pulled at the sheets and pushed her hips way up to line with him, rolling together with him in unison. She snarled and tilted her head to the side when he came and started suckling the pulse point in her neck, grunts increasing in volume as the slapping of flesh echoed out into the quiet and stillness of the room. He hoped to god that no one was awake to hear the shameless cries they were making, but at the same time he kind of didn't care if anyone heard them or not. Beth was  _ _his__. And he wanted people to know that. He'd waited for her for so long, believed in her so much...  _L_ _ _oved__  her so much, that he honestly didn't care if anyone heard him making that perfectly clear by fucking her long and hard. Proving to her, just how much he gave a crap.

Her walls clenched around him and squeezed him ever so tightly, as she orgasmed long and beautifully, cheeks flushed pink and hair sprawled out all around her head like the golden hue of a halo. She was like an angel, he thought. An angel that had faced hell, and made it out alive in one piece... Scarred and bloodied maybe; but very much  _ _alive__. But angel she may be, she was more like an animal in bed. A wolf that's howls echoed out long and loud into the vastness of the night. Screaming at the moon during mating season when the canines rutted wildly beneath the huge silver ball.  _Reaching the stars together_.

They came together twice more, before collapsing onto the sheets, breathing heavy and bodies coated in sweat. He could smell and feel every inch of her. Her sweat, the sex, the general scent of  _her_. Everything that made her  _her_ , he could feel. And it was fucking terrifying, but electric. She was  _electric_.

They fell asleep like that, before Daryl awoke later to find her gone.  _ _Gone__...

He sat up naked on the bed, body still sore and aching from the after effects of their love-making, and looked around the room for her. Her clothes were gone, as were her weapons. He sat there alone in the silence of the room in the dark and rubbed his stubbly chin, smirking to himself. She was as elusive as a wolf, that Beth. Evasive; clever; incapable of being caged. And he thought to himself with a grin:  _ _those Wolves didn't stand a fucking chance against her__ _._


	2. In pursuit of the animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl, Rick, Aaron, Maggie and Glenn venture out after the elusive Greene Wolf, and find themselves in a bit of a tight situation.

Hot lips. The scorching press of skin on skin, burning deep within and spreading like wildfire through veins. Daryl's hand wandered down Beth's creamy legs and reached to cup her sex. She gasped at the contact, whole body jolting as she squirmed. His lips ghosted along her collarbone and he dragged his teeth roughly across the soft flesh there, whilst slowly working his fingers around her throbbing clit, which pounded in sync with the burning in his cock and the beating of his heart...

"...Daryl...! Hey,  _Daryl_!"

Daryl awoke with a jolt and hit his head on the wall as he did. He breathed a hiss of pain and spat out a couple of swear words, before turning his attention to the panicked Maggie that had just burst in on him. God she was such a mood-killer, interrupting his dream like that just when it was getting good and when Beth was about to- _oh fucking lord!_  Did he had one hell of a  _fucking hard on_  right now!

He sat up with a yelp and covered it as best as he could, praying that Maggie hadn't seen it. Because if she had...  _Shit_  he didn't know. He just  _really_  didn't want her to have seen him wake up with a  _morning glory_  like he was some horny teenage kid waking up from some wet dream.

"Whaddya want!?" he barked, feeling the heat from his cock rise to his cheeks.

"You seen Beth!?" she cried desperately, Daryl's body jumping even more to attention at the mention of her name.

Oh he'd seen her last night all right. Done quite a bit more than just  _see_  her actually...  _Stop_. Now was not the time for his own internal humour. He already had a raging hard-on he was hiding beneath the sheets, and if he wanted to keep that from Maggie he needed to push thoughts of her little sister writhing below him in ecstasy  _way_  out of his head. Kind of too late for that now though... The image of Beth's flushed cheeks and panting form still fresh in his mind, doing nothing to help ease the endless burning below.

"No I ain't," he grumbled harshly, wishing Maggie would just leave so he could take care of his problem. "Why? She missin' or somethin'?"

"Yeah! That's exactly what she is! I saw her before I went to sleep last night and that's the last I an' anyone's seen of her! It's like she's jus' taken off without telling anyone..."

Daryl snapped back into awareness. He'd been so caught up in what had happened that he'd almost completely forgotten that Beth had left last night some time after he had fallen asleep. She had taken all her shit with her too. She'd left and he'd not even given it a second glance!  _Shit_!

He was about to leap out of bed when he remembered his little predicament. (Well  _little_  was a bit of an understatement in this case.) His cheeks flared up even more.

"...Could you, uh... maybe wait outside while I get my shit together?"

"Oh right, yeah sorry!" she exclaimed before running out, her head probably filled sick with worry for her precious baby sister. At least she hadn't seen his huge erection over that very same precious baby sister of hers. He wasn't quite sure how she would take that.

.

.

"I told you she wasn't to be trusted." Deanna said knowingly upon being bestowed with the information. Daryl flashed her another one of his famous glares. Why she suddenly thought she had bragging rights was beyond him. She had no proof that Beth had abandoned or  _betrayed_  them.

Rick rebuked. "We don't know that she just left us. She wouldn't do that without a good reason. We  _know_  her."

Daryl knew there  _was_  a reason and that she hadn't had a choice. She'd told him so herself. But Daryl couldn't tell them that. It would sound too suspicious. He knew the others wouldn't take it well if he suddenly announced that he'd had sex with the sweet little Beth Greene that had raised baby Judith. He could leave that part out, but knowing how he was with words, it or something suggesting so would probably come out without him meaning it to. So no... Rick might not favour him so much then. And  _Maggie_? Well... Maybe it would be best to drop that bombshell on her later... He didn't quite take to the idea of a beating from the eldest Greene sister, since he knew how protective she was of her little sister...

In fact actually,  _fuck_  Maggie. Fuck what she thought.  _Protective_? What a joke. She'd forgotten she even  _had_  a sister until the exchange at Grady. Any trace of Beth had been wiped off the fucking planet for her. Daryl knew that she had only put all thought of Beth away to protect herself, but it still pissed him off a lot.  _He_  was the one who had protected Beth... who had been there for her... who had  _never_  given up on her.

_Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith._

Hell he'd ran all night after the car that had taken her, literally ran until he came to a crossroad and had no clue which way the car that had taken her had gone.

 _He'd tried_.

And suddenly, Maggie thought she had some kind of claim on her? Like she had a say in her baby sister's well-being? Maggie could go to hell. Beth was  _his_. In every sense.  _His_... Wow. That sounded pretty fucking possessive on his part.  _Animalistic_  even. Again, fitting for her to be with a group that named themselves after wolves. Because she was a wolf to him. A fierce, free,  _beautiful_  thing that ran with the wind and through the trees of the woods. She was an animal – beguiling and wild.

"Then why did she leave, Rick?" Deanna probed further. "Why would she do that if she was, like you say,  _one of you_?"

Jesus. Couldn't the woman just drop it already? They could just go look for Beth if they were so worried. Or... They could actually bring themselves to  _believe_  in her for a change. Believe that she could handle  _herself_ , like she had proved to him way back in what seemed like several thousand lifetimes ago... Underneath the white light of the moon with the warmth of burning flames licking at her skin, as she stood and held her middle finger to the sky, a wide grin painted on her features as she urged him to join her in that one moment of peculiar joy.

_I'm not like you or them, but I made it!_

Rick frowned and stuck his thumb through one of his belt straps as he thought. "I don't know," he admitted, "But just 'cause I don't know, doesn't mean that there ain't a reason."

"And what if that reason is that she isn't one of you anymore? What if she's-"

"That ain't the reason."

All eyes went to Daryl, who'd accidentally voiced his thoughts.  _Crap_. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut? Aaron was regarding him carefully, and Daryl cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to fix the situation he'd just created for himself.

"I mean... I jus' don't think that's the reason why she'd leave." he tried to explain himself without giving too much away. "S'like Rick said. We  _know_  Beth. Don' matter what she's been through... She's still  _Beth_. An' she wouldn't ever abandon her family. S'just the way she is. She's Beth..."

Daryl felt uncomfortable under the grateful smile Maggie had flashed at him for his comments, and even more so under Aaron's weirdly knowing smile. God what was wrong with these people? Why did they feel the need to give him these creepy little smiles whenever he passed comment?  _This_  was why he hardly ever offered to conversations these days. 'Cause all he got was either an angry earful or a creepy smile. There was no inbetween.

Rick nodded at him (thankfully there was no smile from him) and turned back to Deanna. "You see? Beth isn't like you think. She isn't the enemy. She's good."

 _Good_. That word held so much significance when associated with Beth now. Beth wasn't just good, it was like  _good_  was  _Beth_. She was  _its_  definition. She'd shown him all the good she could, and he'd taken it, tucked it into his chest and let it curl around his heart. Like a seed had been planted and its roots had grown all around his organs, filling him with it's goodness. Good was a pretty simple way to describe her, but yeah... Beth  _was_  good. She would always be good in his eyes, because to him, good meant everything.

_What changed your mind?_

_You._

"She'll come back," Glenn said, "... If she can. She  _will_."

Daryl hoped that she would. Images of the fire in her eyes from last night came back to him. The blackness that spread through her eyes and filled her with hunger, like an animal. And the howls she made to the moon under his hands...

He was far from finished with her yet, and he doubted that he ever would be. She was like some kind of drug that he just couldn't get enough of, that sent flames shooting through is veins and igniting his heart with a ferocity he'd never before known. It was frightening, the intensity she gave him. Frightening how he'd gone from flinching and freezing up over the slightest bit physical touch and wanting to run away... To craving the feel of her hands wandering all over ever inch of his body; scratching with her nails and squeezing, leaving scrapes as she went. But not imprints of abuse... Imprints of  _passion_. Marking him with her enchantment and light.

 _Good_.

"I'll look for her," he announced, rather than offered. Their stares were redirected at him again and he tried not to appear uncomfortable.

He expected Deanna to refuse, or to dish out some more comments on how Beth wasn't worth it... But she didn't. Oddly enough, she stared at him in a very strange way for a while before speaking. She seemed to be trying to see through him... Trying to work out his intentions.

_I'm just trying to figure Mr Dixon out._

Lucky for him, she wasn't as good at it as Aaron was. Because if she was, he'd be  _fucked_.

He kind of already was.

"Alright," Deanna nodded, "Go. Prove to me that she  _is_  with you, like you say. Prove it to me that she is a good person even though she's spent so long out there."

_There's still good people._

So it was decided. He, Rick, Aaron, Maggie, and Glenn were to leave that very same day in pursuit of a bulletproof blonde who'd felt the touch of the apocalypse, but fought it off single-handedly. The first to win the struggle.

.

.

The forest was damp from the earlier rainfall, and the leaves on the trees and bushes glistened in the sunlight; tiny flickers of light dancing from the silver droplets and lighting up the area. The earth was soft beneath Daryl's boots, soggy terrain lacking the familiar crunch of leaves he was so used to. He strode across the dampened leaves, armed with his crossbow and posture tense as he listened to his surroundings intently. That is, he  _would_  if he could.

Because despite the advantage of the ground being so damp and soft, the others weren't as light on their feet as he was. Aaron wasn't doing too bad, and Rick was okay despite his large and towering form. Glenn was reasonably okay too, but he did step on a few twigs every now and then that broke with a fierce snap, echoing out into the silence. But Maggie... Fucking  _Maggie_  was driving him insane. Her footsteps were loud and clumsy as she trudged through the woods in her stomping boots. He was thinking he was pretty lucky to have ended up stuck with the other Greene sister after the fall of the prison. Because if he'd been stuck with Maggie instead of Beth... It would've been mighty fucking tricky for him to catch them any dinner because of her loud treading.

Beth moved through woods like a fawn; soft gentle rustles as her feet padded over fallen leaves and sticks. Hunting with her had been absolute bliss. She'd been silent when following something, careful not to scare it off; and intent when tracking an animal herself.  _Eager_  really. To learn, and to take in the scenery around her. The way she seemed to capture the light of the day and reflect it was forever etched into his memory... The way she shone beneath the streams of light emitting down from gaps in the trees. It was like she had been a part of the nature; so at home, like she belonged.  _Like she_   _belonged there with him_.

He remembered the pleased smiles on her face whenever he let her use his crossbow. When he taught her how to hold, steady, and of course  _shoot_  it. The fact that she'd been eager to learn those things had pleased him to no end, and filled him with an odd warmth and sense of  _pride_. Pride that he'd been able to give  _her_  something, in the midst of all she'd given him.

Aaron jogged up so that he was walking beside him. "You're not in a bad mood today." he remarked casually, like it was a perfectly normal thing to say.

Daryl's brow furrowed, but he kept his bow up and his gaze ahead. "The hell's that s'posed to mean?"

"It's not supposed to mean anything, Daryl. It just means you don't seem to be in a bad mood like you usually are."

"I'm usually in a bad mood?"

Aaron smirked. "Yes." he grinned, "You're always growling about something or other, or passing glares and scowls... But you're not today. Well apart from with Deanna earlier. You weren't yesterday either... Ever since  _Beth_  came back actually..."

Daryl snorted. Aaron could fuck right off. He didn't know entirely what Aaron was implying, but he didn't like it. What did Aaron know? He was pretty good at guessing things most of the time, but no one could figure out what was going on between him and Beth. _No one_. Because not even they had figured it out yet.

He wished Aaron would just drop the subject, because the last thing he needed right now was questioning from Maggie if she heard them and caught on. He could practically already see her expression when she found out what he and Beth had done. When she found out (which she would sooner or later), he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

Luckily, a diversion emerged that shut Aaron up for him before Maggie could hear what they were talking about.

"The hell is  _that_?" Glenn spluttered out, directing their attentions over to the spectacle ahead.

There were walkers tied up from the trees with rope. Hanging torsos with  _'W'_ s etched into their foreheads as they snarled vigorously from their hangings. Daryl walked over to them and withdrew his knife to stab each one in the head, stopping their flailing with each sharp stab. This was those Wolves' doing no doubt about it, and they probably weren't far judging from how fresh their tracks were in the ground...

Meaning that  _Beth_  wasn't far either.

The fact that he was travelling towards her again... Running towards wherever she may be... Gave him that fire he had had when blindly chasing that white cross into the darkness. He was running towards something again. She wasn't gone; she wasn't dead. She was  _there_. And he could catch her this time, because this time he wasn't going to stop running. He would crawl if he had to, just to catch up to her.

"Stay the fuck where you are and don't you dare move."

They each flinched at the unfamiliar voice and went deadly still. Daryl heard the snap of the safety off a gun, and heard whoever the voice belonged to take a few steps towards them from behind. He turned his head slowly, not wanting it blown off like Beth's had been by Dawn due to her quick reckless actions. It would be silly for him to go down like that in the same way now, after she'd come back to him from that.  _After they'd found each other again._

A man stood several feet away from them. Scruffy, considerably well built, with a gun pointed at them. He had a  _'W'_  carved into his forehead just like the walkers, though he was no walker himself. He wore a filthy, almost arrogant smirk as he held them at gunpoint, and met Daryl's gaze.

Daryl squeezed the handle of his crossbow, and saw the Wolf shake his head and click his tongue. "Ah ah ah." he wiggled his finger and waved the gun, "Don't even fucking  _think_  about using that, man."

Rick met Daryl's gaze and the other man looked at him with pursed lips.

"Drop it." the Wolf hissed, referring to the crossbow. "Drop 'em all, drop all yer weapons. I want 'em."

Daryl stared at the Wolf for a while before carefully lowering his crossbow down and laying it on the ground. Then the knives from his belt...  _Beth's_... The others followed his lead and dropped their weapons to the ground. Rick slowly turned so he was facing their enemy, and rose his hands. "You don't wanna do this," he said in a level tone, "Just think about it."

"I did think about it. I want all yer weapons and supplies, then all o' you dead."

"Why do you want to kill us?" Rick asked.

"'Cause I want your shit."

"I'm sure we can work somethin' out."

"Like what?"

Rick went silent for a moment, hands still risen. The Wolf's smile stretched and he flashed rotten teeth, like a true animal. Only there was nothing graceful about him like there was with Beth. His smile made Daryl's skin crawl, and he wanted nothing more than to rip the man's throat out just like Rick had with Joe and his gang. He wondered if Rick was considering it too.

"What do you want?" was Rick's question finally, "Maybe we can come to an agreement."

The Wolf's grin widened. "... _The woman_. Gimme the woman an' I'll think about lettin' some of you go alive."

Daryl practically heard Glenn's breathing exhilarate and the tight balling of his fists.  _Don' lose your cool, man._  He thought to himself. It's what he wants. If one of them lost it, the fucker would pull the trigger on them and rob them of their supplies...  _And Maggie_. Why the fuck was  _Beth_  with people like this if they treated women like this? How had she managed to become a part of such a sick group that raped and killed women?  _How_  had she? What had she offered?...

Daryl felt his skin prickle as a thought ran through his head, but he dismissed it instantly as ridiculous. Beth wouldn't do that. Not for anything in the world, no matter how high the stakes.  _Never that._

The Wolf chuckled at their reactions to his request. "S'wrong? Can't meet my terms? Must be havin' enough fun fuckin' her  _yourselves_  and unwilling to share. Ain't no room left for greedy pricks like you in this world."

Daryl felt his blood boil. He wanted nothing more than to whip out his knife and slice the guy's throat open. If he felt like that, he couldn't imagine what  _Glenn_  wanted to do to him right now. The Wolf would notice if Daryl reached down and threw his knife at him though, and probably put a bullet in his head before he even got to his knees.  _Maybe he would survive too?_  he thought cruelly. If Beth had survived such a fatality, maybe he could too? No... Somehow, this was different. Though there was only one Wolf in sight, he doubted that was the case. The rustles he heard occasionally circling them were too loud and clumsy to be woodland animals. They were human... And they had them surrounded.

Surviving  _one_  bullet to the head? Maybe. But a  _dozen_  to the head? Not so much.

So the question was: how were they to get out of such a situation unscathed?

The Wolf was getting impatient. "So what's it gonna be?" he asked, "You gonna hand 'er over or do we have to take 'er?"

"Go to hell," Glenn spat.

The Wolf's lips curled up into an even wider smile, and he pointed his gun at Glenn. "I'll see ya there then I guess."

Maggie was starting to show signs of panic, and she was probably going to do something stupid that would get them all killed. Daryl needed to think of something before she went and did just that. He would have reassured her in some way if he could, but they were surrounded and any movement on his part could simply worsen the situation.  _Shit!_ Things weren't looking up. He needed to think of some kind of diversion fast, or everything they had worked for... everything they had fought for... Would mean nothing.  _Pointless_.

It was in that moment of despair... that came their  _diversion_.

A distant blast sounded in the distance, and a white-orange flare shot up into the sky, trails of bright sparks and light billowing behind it as it sky-rocketed. The Wolf's eyes followed the flare and his smile instantly faded. The rustling in the bushes around them intensified. The Wolf's eyes narrowed and his lips were stretched tightly over his clenched teeth, a lethal expression. He pointed the gun at Glenn again and his finger moved towards the trigger, not joking anymore.

Maggie wasted no time in acting, and launched herself at him, sending the bullet from his gun shooting upward so that it missed Glenn and the others entirely. " _MOVE_!" she screeched as more Wolves emerged from the shrubbery and advanced upon the five.

Daryl had his crossbow back in seconds, and fired at a Wolf that was running towards Aaron that would have ripped his throat out. Unable to spot his knife on the ground in all the leaves, he instead reached down and scooped up Beth's tinier one. He used it to slice another Wolf's neck open, blood pouring out and spurting onto his chest.

More Wolves were coming by the second.  _Fuck, how many were there!?_  Rick had his gun out shooting at them, and shot Daryl a look in the midst of all the madness. A look that screamed  _run_.

The others seemed to pick up on the look too, and scattered. Each ran in a different direction, thus scattering the enemy too. Daryl ran down a stretch of forest alongside a dried up creek, two Wolves on his tail as he went. His fingers tightened around the brown handle of tiny knife in his hand, and he slid it back into it's sheath on his hip. He then skidded to a halt and turned to aim his bow at one of the Wolves coming his way. The arrow flew through the air and shot straight into one of the men's heads, sending him falling to his knees dead in an instant. There was no time to reload before the other Wolf reached him, so he tossed the crossbow and instead ran at the man head-on. Daryl grabbed him by the shoulders and bashed his head against his. Whilst the Wolf was disoriented, Daryl pulled Beth's knife back out of its sheath and shoved it hard into the Wolf's right temple, killing him too.

Blood ran down Daryl's hands and down the blade of the pocket knife in his hand. He stared down at the red liquid running down the blade, breathing heavy, and felt a great urge to wipe it with his sleeve. Wipe it  _clean_.

Because it was dirty;  _tainted_. And that wasn't how it was supposed to be. Because she was pure, light,  _good_. This wasn't her. And this knife was all he had left of her, or had been.

"Daryl?"

He turned to soft blonde locks... wide doe eyes... battle scars lined upon smooth cheeks...  _Her_.


	3. She screams like a beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't get to treat me like crap just 'case you're afraid," she'd said. No... Screamed. And Daryl and Beth will never stop howling in each others faces. Not even in this new intimate territory they've found themselves in.

Daryl stared at the impossible blonde standing before him, her hands filled with logs of wood and branches as she stared across at him. She looked the same as she had when he'd last seen her... Cut short shoulder-length hair, battle charred face, and a bandage bound around her head to cover that very nearly fatal wound she bore. She was the same... She was still here... And despite this not being the first time he'd seen her since the... the  _incident_ , he couldn't help the swell of affection that rose in his chest at the sight of her; alive and well.

A grin broke out across Daryl's features, and he bounded over to her and threw his arms around her tiny frame, making her drop all the wood as he did. Beth gasped at the tightness of his hold, but then brought her hands up to rub his back as she nuzzled her face into his neck. The contact felt great, and Daryl very nearly melted into the embrace. His stomach did tiny flips as her fingers brushed up and down his back, tracing the wings on the back of his vest, caressing each death-faded feather. Despite what they had done together, even the simplest of contact such as this could still ignite sparks within his stomach. He doubted she would never stop having that effect on him, no matter what she did.

"It's good to see you," she mumbled into his neck, and he could feel her smiling against his skin.

His grin widened unintentionally, and he rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of her neck. He hummed lowly in response, and he knew that that would be goof enough for her.

Beth pulled back from his bone crushing hug and looked up at him, but not removing her hands from where they were placed on his chest. Her eyes were bright as ever, but they held traces of worry this time. She was troubled, and Daryl wondered why.

"S'wrong?" he asked.

Her mouth twitched and she tilted her head to the side. "Nothin'... It's just... It's nothing really... I just don't want you getting killed if you're spotted."

Daryl's smile faded into a frown. "Spotted? Spotted by  _who_?" he asked, "Them Wolves?"

"Who else? Yeah. They'll gut you if they so much as catch  _sight_  of you, then they'll take all your things and use you as a part of one of their elaborate walker traps."

"Why ya even wit' those guys?" he voiced the question that had been on his mind since she'd first revealed her involvement with the group of savages.  _Why_? Why was she?

Beth's brow furrowed at the question and she looked away. "...I just... gotta."

"But  _why_?" he pressed. "You could jus' leave an' come back with us. We'd protect you from 'em."

"It's not that easy..."

"It could be."

She looked back at him, her eyes big and sad, and suddenly she didn't look so much like the big bad wolf anymore... She looked more like a lost deer, small and vulnerable, in a world of hunters and poachers.

"Daryl..." she whispered, "Please don't try and make me go against it, 'cause I can't. I just can't."

Frustration was edging into Daryl at her resistance, along with confusion. Why couldn't she leave? What could they possibly have on her that restricted her freedom? What couldn't she tell him?

"Beth..."

Words were a bitch. Daryl hated the fact that he couldn't just come out and fucking say what he was thinking. He had always been a man of few words, only speaking when totally necessary, but with Beth... he just couldn't seem to piece together the words to form coherent sentences. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn't bring himself to actually vocalise it. And that really fucking  _sucked_.

Beth's fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, and she stared into his eyes with her big blue ones that made his knees go weak.  _Like a stupid schoolboy crush_. Her lips curled up into a small smile, and he briefly worried that she might be able to read his mind. Oh God, that would be awful. She would know all the moronic things he thought about her then, and he would die of humiliation.

"I  _wanna_  come back to all of you, of course I do... I just  _can't_. Not yet anyway."

"But why?" Daryl was beginning to sound as desperate as he felt. Oh well, he didn't care. He just wanted to know why the hell she couldn't just take off and come back to Alexandria with him. "What can't ya say? You can trust me... Y' _know_  you can."

"I know I can... I just... We... They...  _have_  something on me, okay? Something I can't break their trust for. It's really important and I can't do anything that'll make them turn against me, or I'll screw it up. Please understand, Daryl. If I  _could_  come back with you, I would. But this is stopping me from doing that."

"You can't tell me what it is?"

She shook her head. "No. Not yet anyway. I got a plan that might help get me outta this, but I can't tell you about it. Not just yet. I need some time to figure it all out first."

Daryl felt discomfort bubbling in his chest again, and that awful thought came over him again. Whatever it was that the Wolves had against Beth, she wasn't going to tell him any time soon. But what could it  _be_?... Though he wanted to push the thought out of his head, it just kept coming back and screaming at him that maybe, just  _maybe_ ,  _that's_  what it was...

"Are you sleepin' wit' them?"

It was out before Daryl could even think to censor his words. And he regretted not doing so instantly.  _Shit. Flying fucking shit!_

The fondness in Beth's expression disappeared completely, and was replaced by a look of sheer horror at the god-awful question. So many emotions flickered in those big, usually ever-soft eyes of hers... Shock... Repulsion...  _Rage_... Her face was flushed with that same rage as she clenched her teeth and almost practically  _snarled_  at him. Teeth white and glinting like sharpened pearls. Odd comparison for the time, he thought, especially given the situation.

"... _What_?" she spat through clenched teeth, tone eerily calm, but dripping with acid.

"Shit... Beth, I didn't mean..." He tried to fix his mistake, but it was too late to gloss over it with weak explanations. He had crossed the line this time, and she wasn't going to stand for it at all. She hadn't before, so why should she now? She never stood for it.

Beth looked down at her nails and pressed her lips together.  _Oh no_... He could feel a storm coming, and it wasn't from up in the clouds. He was fucked... Absolutely, entirely, diabolically  _fucked_... He remembered that he kind of already was.

"So I tell you that these people have something against me, I don't say what... and that I just need some time to get out of it..." Her voice sent chills down his body, and she had long dropped her hands from his chest, now picking at her nails. "I tell you that, wanting you to  _trust_  me, like you always have... Like you've  _always_  been the only one who ever had... But you... You think that as a ways to save myself... I'M JUST SELLING OUT MY BODY LIKE SOME KIND OF  _WHORE_?"

_Fuck._

"You think that since  _you_  got a piece, why doesn't everybody else gotten a piece too!? Oh I see how it is: 'Surely she's been passing it out to everybody she sees!' 'She's a woman; she needs her ass protecting; it's the apocalypse; not many women left these days... So why the fuck  _not_!?' 'Just pass it around!'... Is that what you take me for, Daryl!? Some kind of desperate slut!?"

"No of 'course I don't-"

"Then what  _is it_!?" she screamed. " _What_  were you insinuating!? 'Cause that's sure as hell what it sounded like to me!"

Daryl knew he was well and truly fucked right now.  _Crap_ , what was he supposed to say? He hadn't meant for it to come across that way, it was just a thought that had entered his brain unwillingly! He hadn't even meant to say it out  _loud_! But he had. A fantastic example of how good he was with words. The ones he wanted to say got stuck in his throat like toffee, and the ones he didn't came pouring out like honey. Fuck words. What was he supposed to say now? He wanted to apologise, but the words  _"I'm sorry"_  definitely weren't going to come out.

Oh no... When faced with a situation like this, Daryl retaliated with equal fire power... It wasn't the best thing to do in such a situation, certainly. Especially when the opponent was Beth motherfucking Greene... But he still did it, despite knowing that. There really was something wrong with him.

"Oh yeah?" he snapped, "Well what the hell else was I s'posed to think!? You're with a gang of men; all thieves, murderers, and rapists.  _Anyone_  would make the assumption that you was screwin' them to stay on their good sides!"

Beth was taken aback, her expression horrified. But the rage expanded across her features, and her fists balled at her sides. Never backing down, this girl, ever the fighter. She'd die before she backed down to him... And that's what made her so extraordinary in his eyes... Her inability to let the sting from his words poison and kill her... Instead, she pulled out the thorn and jabbed it right back in  _him_ , letting him feel the sharp sting of his own poison.

Poison couldn't kill her, and neither could a bullet to the head. He wondered if  _anything_  could at this stage.

"You think that just because I'm a girl, that's the only thing I'm capable of using to protect myself!? My body!? Screw you, Daryl. You don't get it."

_I get it now._

"What's not to  _get_?" his tone was cruel; teasing in fact. Dry humour that he just couldn't keep to himself in the heat of the moment. This was stupid... This entire thing was the most fucking stupidest thing... But he couldn't stop. He didn't want to say these things to Beth, of course he didn't... But she was angry, and he was angry. And Daryl only knew to respond to anger with  _more_  anger. Fighting fire with fire. Duelling for the upper hand... It was all he'd known when he was younger. With Merle... With his Dad... That's just what you did. You didn't back down, even if it was wrong. You just didn't back down in a scene like this.  _You fought back_. And just like back at the moonshine shack, where he'd first exploded onto Beth in a fit of drunken rage, and she had quelled his fire with her own and sent him packing... Daryl wasn't backing down this time. He was going to fight back  _again_. And if he lost again... Then so be it. Losing to her had never felt like a true loss before anyway. The only true loss he'd felt when associated with her had been watching her lifeless body fall to the ground and standing in the spray of her blood...

"It's quite simple, Beth." he carried on. "You see a tough lookin' guy who looks like he's got the balls of protectin' ya... You fuck him good, an' then you're in with him. Safe 'n' sound. Fuckin'  _easy as pie_!" His words rose a tenor at that last part, as if he was  _mocking_... Mocking  _her,_  and her old life.

Beth's eyes flashed with fire and she stormed closer to him, and got right up in his face to shout back. "That's not all I'm capable of!" she spat, "I don't gotta whore myself out to save my skin! I got a whole lot'a other ways of keeping myself alive. I survived a bullet to the head for God's sakes! Think I pimped my body out to  _Jesus_  and begged him to let me live!? Fucking grow a pair, you numbskull!"

"But usin' sex is the best skill a woman'll ever have to trick a man. Always has been, always will be. Goddamned apocalypse just made it more common! Never took  _you_  for the type to do that though, Beth... Guess it's a lot more common than I thought."

"Oh screw you Daryl!" she scoffed, "You don't mean a word of this you're saying right now. You're just  _scared_  so you're spewing out anything you can to protect yourself from getting hurt."

_And you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid!_

He snorted. "Oh yeah? That's it, huh? I'm  _scared_ , huh? I'm scared of  _nothin_ ', girl."

_I ain't afraid o' nothin'._

"Yeah you are!... That's why you're doing this. You're doin' it because you're scared. And when you're scared, you freak out and scream anything you can to make it seem like you're not! It's what guys like you do."

"Yeah... Guys like  _me_? Or maybe I'm jus' sayin' all this 'cause I think it's  _true!_  Hm? Ever think of  _that_?"

"You and I both know that's far from being true. You're nothing more than a coward who says things he doesn't mean to stop himself from getting hurt. Well _news flash_ : You can't  _avoid_  getting hurt in this world. It. Just. Happens. It's something you have to deal with now! People deal with it in different ways, and yours is clearly being a  _jackass_!"

"At least I ain't dealing wit' it by sleeping with scum bags!"

"I'd rather be a whore than a total dick who has no regard to anyone's feelings other than his  _own_!"

_That was enough._

Daryl grabbed Beth by the sides of her face and pulled her in to fasten his mouth onto hers. She squirmed under his hold at first, before throwing her arms around his neck and pushing up fiercely into the kiss. This kiss was messy; hard; clumsy. Teeth clashed frequently, and their tongues meshed together wildly as Beth bit his bottom lip hard, almost drawing blood. Daryl's arms wound around her waist and pulled her flush against him, body lined up against his front. Her soft curves lined up perfectly with the hard lines of his front. His hard-on was pressed onto her stomach, squashed between their two bodies as they kissed roughly.

Beth fisted a hand into his hair and pulled at the strands hard, making him gasp a pocketful of air into her mouth, which she swallowed with another unyielding kiss. His fingers dug into her sides, and he swirled his tongue around hers blindly, before pulling away with darkened cheeks to stare down at her face.

She was staring up at him too, eyes black and filled with that earlier rage. But there was something else there too... Something heated. There was anger, but there was also desire too. And where there was desire, there was bound to be a flame of hunger. And that flame was going to get him burned. But honestly, he didn't fucking care. He could burn to cinders for all he cared. Because all he cared about was  _her_. She was literally all that mattered in that moment, and she was so beautiful and wild that it physically hurt to look at her.

_I want you. I need you. I'm sorry._

_I'm so,_ so _sorry._

Why couldn't he just come out and say it? Why was it so hard?

Beth tightened her hold on his hair and pulled him back in so that their lips clashed again. She scraped her teeth along his bottom lip roughly, enticing a moan under her harsh administrations. Daryl's thumb pushed into her hip as he hissed in delight, and she caught his lip between her teeth again. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and scooped her up against him, calves wound around his waist and tugging her against his burning groin. She gasped at the contact against his mouth, giving him the opportunity to break away from her lips and begin trailing hard, hot kisses down the smooth column of her throat. He licked the sweat from her neck, salt gathering on his tongue, a sharp moisture he had been lacking. He could feel her pulse beating as he grazed his teeth along her neck, and he found himself wanting to sink his teeth into her and taste her heart beating through her flesh.

Her arms tightened around his neck as his teeth grazed the side of her neck harder, suckling on the skin there and marking it. There would be a colourful bruise there later, maybe more than one, but neither one of them cared. Daryl was feeling heady from the sensations running through him. The anger from their fight... The hurt... Added on top of the sexual aggravation he was feeling... The feeling was  _electrifying_. His body was on fire! And he felt like he could leap up and swallow the lightning from a storm. Just to feel the electricity crackling in his throat and down in the pit of his stomach.

His body alight, and Beth had been the one to strike the match on his flesh. She had fed the flames with her hot mouth and burning hands roaming all over his body, and he couldn't be any happier.

"I want you," he growled against her breastbone, mouth trailing along the dips in her flesh.  _I want you so bad,_  he mouthed along that flesh. _I want all of you, I want it all, I want you I want you I want you._

She moaned into his hair and squeezed his torso with her thighs, making his cock throb from within its confinement. "Then what're you waiting for?"

_Nothin'._

This was crazy... They were crazy... It was all crazy... But that was okay. The world was crazy now, and everything was crazy. Crazy didn't matter anymore. In fact Daryl didn't think that  _anything_  really mattered anymore. What did it even mean if something mattered? What exactly did it mean to  _matter_? He didn't think he'd mattered before, he certainly hadn't before the turn... before he'd met Rick and the group...and certainly not before he'd met Beth. He guessed that's what it was to matter... Being able to provide for people, and learning your worth. Daryl  _had_  learned his worth through this equally crazy group of people who he most likely would've never looked twice at before the turn, as each of them had crawled under his skin and curled up in his heart, making themselves  _belong_  there.

They were his family, and they needed him, as crazy as that was. And he supposed that in that sense... he  _did_  matter.

_It does matter._

It really does.

Blind stumbling through the woods brought Daryl and Beth to a run down shack-like structure among a huge set of pine trees. Beth pulled him over the damp ground, wet leaves clinging to the soles of their boots, and pressed him up against the wall of the shack to kiss him again. Her kisses were wild and uncoordinated; messy with the constant clashing of teeth, but that didn't matter. She was working at his belt before he even knew what was happening, hands wild and roaming as she kissed the corners of his mouth desperately. She had unbuckled him and was trying to drag his trousers down before he stopped her.

Daryl's cheeks were dark and his breathing was laboured. He clasped her hand and threaded her fingers through his, as he side-eyed the shack with an awkward cough. It wasn't safe to be doing things like this out in the open, well probably not safe at all, but still not in the open where anyone could happen to come across them. They hadn't even checked out the shack yet. Beth was making him careless. A kind of careless he liked, but still careless all the same. And you couldn't afford to be careless anymore, especially out here with the bad kinds of people running about.

Her eyes darted to the door of the shack, and she led him over to it. She gave his hand a tight squeeze and pulled it open slowly, a hidden gun from her boot raised in means of defence. No matter what had happened to her to change her so, Beth would never kill an innocent person. Not purposely. He still  _knew_  her, and that wasn't who she was.

_We know her._

The shack was empty – human  _and_  walker-wise. And also in means of anything else like useful survival resources.  _Dang._  People didn't just leave things out anymore, and there was getting fewer things to scour out these days. Eventually... things would run out, and there would be nothing they could do to fix it. Back before the turn, people had been so obsessed with conserving the non-renewable means of fuel such as oil, gas, and coal... But they'd failed to think of a solution to if the simplest of things ever happened to run out in a worst case scenario like the end of the world. Humanity were excellent at expressing worry, but they were fucking terrible at using it to better their methods of action. And that was what had been their downfall.

"We cleaned this place out a while back. Picked it clean of food and weapons... Everything." Beth explained through ragged breath, cheeks still pink from his kisses.

"So you've been here b'fore then?"

"Yeah." She caught the look on his face and frowned. "And  _no_ , I  _didn't_  fuck any of 'em in here if that's what you were thinking."

Her hand was warm in his, and he grazed his thumb across the back of her hand.  _Shit_...

"I know... I was jus'-I didn't mean..." A sigh escaped him, and he found himself staring up at the stained ceiling, marked with dampness and decay and other kinds of bacteria formations.

She matched his sigh with a sigh of her own, and brought the hand that wasn't clasped in his up to scratch her cheek. It was then that he noticed the mark on the back of that hand – skin red and charred, with the smallest amount of dried blood scabbed over the wound he had failed to notice. In his defence he  _had_  been distracted... They had been either too busy screaming in each others faces, then  _sucking_  each others faces off for him to notice.

He removed his fingers from tangled around hers, and cupped the injured hand in his larger ones to examine it. "How'd this happen?" he asked, almost tenderly in tone.

"Recoil..." she mumbled, almost as if she was embarrassed to tell him, though he couldn't imagine why she would be. "I was... shootin' a flare gun and there was something wrong with it. So when I fired it, some of the sparks that were supposed to go up went  _down_ , and... Well yeah... That's what happened."

"That was you? Shootin' the flare, I mean."

A smile. She nodded. "I heard the run-in the Wolves had with this little group of survivors from where I was collecting firewood, and wanted to help, but in a way that wasn't too obvious I was helping ones who weren't my own... I know what they do, Daryl. I know what they do to other survivors... And I don't  _want_  that happening to anyone. So I did what I could... Fired my flare to distract them, maybe give the other group chance to get out of it... And I got myself this lovely burn on the back of my hand for trying to do just that. Odd way of my good karma being repaid..."

Daryl nearly chuckled. "Ain't got nothin' to do with  _karma_  or any mystic shit like that. Yer just clumsy, Greene... That ain't changed at all."

 _She_  did laugh at that, just a low throaty chuckle at his comment that filled him with warmth at the sound of. The smile on her face was soft... simple...  _gentle_. Nothing sexual, suggestive, or sinister about it. Just warm, like when she would smile at him before... He remembered the last time she'd smiled at him like that. Sat at a table laid with a dumb white trash brunch, scribbling away a thank you note to someone who was probably dead, perfectly content so sit with no other company than some redneck asshole, happily joking and smiling with him like they were as close as can be... Daryl supposed that's what they had been.  _Close_. There had been an unlikely friendship there... an understanding... He remembered that he hadn't understood what that had been back then, and he'd been afraid that what he was feeling was that thing he didn't believe existed... That silly, impossible  _thing_  that he'd never known before in his life, and had no way of identifying even if it was shown.

But he'd felt  _something,_ and he sure as hell felt something now too. But what that feeling  _was_  scared the shit out of him, because he just couldn't place it. The warmth... The light-heartedness... The overall simplicity and fuzzy sensation he got deep in his stomach even from just being around her... It was scary. And weird. Because Daryl thought these kind of things were supposed to happen in the chest, but everything with Beth seemed to happen way down in his gut.

It was new, but it wasn't a  _horrible_  kind of new. It was an  _unknown_  kind of new... The kind of new that made you stop and just think...  _What is this?_ And sometimes, Daryl would just look at Beth, see the bright hope and refreshing naiveté in her eyes, and think...  _There's something about you... Something that resonates with me in a way I don't yet understand... But I really_ wanna _understand it._

He held that clumsily burned hand of hers in his, stroking the soft palm of it with his fingers. It was so small in comparison to his... So fragile. Just like her.

"I am clumsy..." Beth agreed, "But that gun was messed up too, so it's not entirely my fault this time."

Daryl tore a piece of fabric off the hem of his shirt and began wrapping it around her hand. There wasn't anything around to clean the wound, but covering it should at least stop it from getting infected, that is if it wasn't already. She had always been the one with better medical knowledge, he just kind of did what he'd seen people do on TV back in the day.

"Yeah sure..." he mumbled, mid-wrapping. "Thanks for that... by the way... For the distraction."

Her eyes widened and she blinked. "That was you?" she asked in surprise, "Huh... I didn't know that. Who was with you? It seemed like he was talking to more than one person from what I heard."

"Me, Rick, Aaron... um, you don't know 'im... then Glenn an' Maggie..."

" _Maggie_? Uh oh, bet that didn't go down so well. With her being a  _woman_  and all..."

"Yeah... It didn' go down so good."

"Is she okay?

Daryl looked up from wrapping and looked at the worry in her eyes. That worry that he hadn't seen so often in Maggie's eyes when Beth had been holed up in that godforsaken hospital... And he felt a pang of sadness in his chest. For the one-sidedness of the sibling relationship. Now he knew Maggie loved Beth dearly, more than anything... But her faith in her little sister was weak, and she had dismissed her as dead far too easily. Daryl knew that was because Maggie hadn't gotten the chance to see the strength her little sister held, but that still didn't excuse the fact that she could have at least believed just a little harder. Showed the faith that Beth, and  _Hershel_ , had constantly. Keeping that faith in a world like this was hard, he gathered, but if others had managed, then Maggie could have tried too. She could have  _tried_...

"...I dunno." he answered honestly, because he really  _didn't_  know. They had all split up after the flare had been fired, and Daryl didn't know where any of the others had gone... Or if they were even still alive.

_They're alive._

That's right, they were. Maggie may have lacked the faith of that... But Daryl sure as hell wouldn't make the same mistake. He wasn't a man of God like Hershel had been, or an optimistic Christian girl like Beth was... But he could do so much as have a bit of faith in the people who were as good as family to him.

_Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith._

Beth cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips together in thought. "What were you even  _doing_  out so far from Alexandria though? Hunting? I didn't think Maggie was all that into it, she threw a fit whenever Otis dragged her out to learn. I guess Glenn being there would make her more willing."

"No we were, uh... We was lookin' for you." he mumbled.

"...You were?"

"Maggie was worried."

Daryl wasn't sure why he felt the need to clarify that. Of  _course_  Maggie would be worried that her baby sister had run off into the wilderness with walkers and dangerous men roaming about, after having the safety of being within walls again. A luxury they hadn't had since the time of the prison. You would have to be crazy to deny that kind of luxury in a world like this...

Maybe Beth  _was_  crazy. Maybe  _he_  was crazy too... It didn't matter. They were all crazy in a sense. People did crazy things now, for equally crazy reasons. But that didn't make those reasons unjustified. Maybe Beth was crazy for going back to the Wolves; even though they were murderers, thieves, and rapists. Maybe she was crazy because she went back to them even though she now had a sanctuary to call home, one they'd been looking for right since the beginning...

But Daryl trusted her decisions, and maybe he was crazy for that.

"Yeah?" Beth mumbled.

"Yeah."

Another smile. Somehow Beth's smiles didn't make him uncomfortable like everyone else's seemed to. Well not uncomfortable in the sense that he wanted to scurry off out of sight and hide at least. Beth's smiles felt nothing like that. They made him nervous yes, but at the same time they made him feel all warm inside, and weirdly happy. They made him think lame mushy stuff that he was embarrassed of that his brain was conjuring up such shit... Like when he compared the warmth of her smiles to the warmth of a summer day. God he sounded like one of fucking Shakespeare's characters when he did that, not that Daryl had ever read Shakespeare, but he got most of the well known phrases and stories. Most which he found dumb and utterly stupid.

Like Romeo and Juliet (or the film version one of Merle's chicks had forced him and his brother into watching at least). Daryl just couldn't fathom how two people could fall in love so quickly when not knowing a single thing about each other, and then just devote themselves completely to a supposed intense  _'love of a lifetime'_. Or how they were so willing to die for each other, that they would fall victim to such a ridiculous plot just to be together, that they would die because of. It was stupid, completely, and utterly stupid...

But then Daryl remembered the way he'd felt when Beth had smiled at him when sitting across on the porch with him, drinking into the night and actually  _listening_  to him talk. Listening to everything he was, drinking him in along with the flammable moonshine... Listening to the pain of his past, and then taking it all and burning it away with towering dancing flames of the old shack... Even then she'd still shone brighter than any flame he'd ever seen burn.

And then Daryl thought that maybe... he could understand how one person could be so  _extraordinary_ , that you just looked at them and wanted to tuck them into yourself and keep them safe no matter what. And you knew that you would do anything you could to ensure that they stayed safe. Because they were like magic, and they were the proof that you needed to believe that things like that were real. Beth  _was_  that magic. And he would take that bullet she'd taken a thousand times himself, if it meant watching her get to live and spread her magic all around like she was the sun, and everybody else were the planets orbiting her, like she was the centre of the galaxy.

There he went again, being a fucking  _poet_  again. And all because of one little, wild, beautiful, extraordinary, crazy  _girl_. Beth Greene was a lot of things, but she still amounted to just one crazy girl.

And that was  _good_.


	4. Playing with fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There had been a time for all the things Daryl wanted with Beth. Not before the apocalypse, no, but the part just before everything he could have possibly cared about was stripped away. Back when Adam and Eve scoured Eden and found no more than blackberry bushes and a funeral home, and just that was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah I'm having fun transferring this directly from my ff.net account. Hope you're enjoying the story!
> 
> It was a pretty heated previous chapter and I felt the need to express that I am not siding with Beth or Daryl for their actions/behaviour. They were both being dicks (he's had too much of an influence on her lmao), and need to rectify said dick behaviour. But this is just typical Daryl and Beth for you... Problematic.
> 
> That's why I love 'em.

There had been a time for words, once upon a time. In the safety of a funeral home, surrounded by the soft glow of a hundred candles, and the even softer glow of the light in a girl's eyes as she sat next to him at a table.  _Light_... Way back all that time ago, when it was just the two of them, wandering the earth hand-in-hand, with only each other for companionship. And companionship it had been, though Daryl had often found himself questioning that title. Companions, they were. But was that the entirety of it?

Daryl had known there was something other than platonic affection he felt, but what of  _Beth's_  feelings? He was confident enough to say that he could be identified as remotely  _special_  to her, but was that the full of it? Beth handed out her affection freely, showering everyone in the group with her kindness and joy. Why should it be so different with him? She may have only been treating him as she would any other she'd been stuck with after the loss of an entire family.

But there was something in the look on her face when he'd tried to tell her that she meant something more to him, back in that candlelit funeral home... Something that told him, that maybe... that wasn't all there was to it. That maybe, somehow, in some way... Beth had felt those weird feelings too. Those warm, heart fluttering, confusing, mad,  _mad_  feelings that kept him awake at night mulling over... That drove him insane.

Because Daryl sure as hell felt something strong for her, and the intensity of what he felt was empowering. It was a force that drove him, and gave him strength. The strength to chase after a car in the middle of the night after a young girl he'd only just begun to know truly. A force that filled him with a need to catch up to that car that had taken her away from him, a need that he just needed to be fulfilled for reasons he didn't understand...

Daryl didn't understand a lot of things when Beth was concerned. But he did know that he would die for her, as cringey and Shakespeare-like as that sounded. He  _would_  die for Beth. If it meant her happiness, and that she could  _live_. His life didn't matter if that was the case. And that force that was making him think such deep things scared the shit out of him so much. Because no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to vocalise those thoughts he had... Couldn't for the life of him utter a single word involving those powerful feelings. And that sucked, because he'd had a chance when sitting beside her at that candlelit table all those nights ago, with the tiny flames glinting in her eyes as she stared up at him happily. But he'd just stared back at her, unable to say a word, with every little thing she made him feel rising inside of him and  _surely_  shining through in his eyes. Shining so that it must have become clear to her... And he knew from the second she uttered that quiet  _oh_ , that that had been the case.

_What changed your mind?_

But oh god, how he wished he could've been able to tell her. How he could  _still_  tell her, but also could not. Because the words he needed, he still lacked. And that really sucked too because it was only one word that he needed anyway to answer that earth shattering fucking question.

What had changed his mind, she'd asked.  _Oh Beth_... How could she not know? How could she  _possibly_  not know the answer to that? Maybe that  _oh_  had been her finally realising the answer, but somehow Daryl knew that he still needed to be able to say it. Out loud.

Because if he couldn't say one simple word like that... Then how could he ever hope to say anything more? Like an apology for every awful thing he'd ever uttered to her; the time he'd mocked her cushy life on the farm, her suicide attempt, and now accusing her of pimping herself out for protection. Okay maybe that had been a little valid, but he could have at least worded it better. She couldn't blame him for thinking that, and somehow he knew that she regretted all she'd blown back at him in defence too. Because Daryl knew that feeling too, of fighting rage with rage, and never backing down. Perhaps he had rubbed off on Beth a little  _too_  much.

But as much as Daryl regretted saying that to her, he had a feeling that she'd understood where he was coming from, but that didn't make it any more justified. Neither did it excuse her behaviour either. They were both in the wrong, and Daryl knew that this subject matter was not over.

But he really wished she would tell him what those fucking Wolves had that wouldn't allow her to leave. Did she think he would judge her or something if it was a dark secret about her? He was beyond caring about things like that if it was the case. They'd all done terrible things to survive, he doubted knowing something she'd done would change his mind about her too drastically. And still... Daryl still couldn't shake the feeling that it was something else... Something bigger.

"Tell me something." Beth's voice cut through his thoughts and turned his attention to her.

"Hm?"

"You heard.  _Tell_  me something."

"...Like what?"

"I dunno... Anything. Whatever you want. Alexandria... What you guys have been up to during my absence...? Anything you wanna talk about. I just... I missed this. You.  _Us_. Just talking to you. Never realised how much until after it was gone."

Oh.

Daryl sat back on his place on the wooden chair in the shack and looked at her. She sat across from him on an old cushion she had found, legs tucked neatly under each other, and hands resting on her thighs. Her smile was still present on her face, but held traces of sadness... And now relief. Relief at what? Of being able to talk to him again? It was hard to believe after the impressive row they'd just had. But here she was, claiming that she liked talking with him. No mention of anything suggestive, just  _talking_. She ranged from being complicated as fuck to suddenly so simple... And  _young_.

She looked young in this instant, and Daryl felt a pang on discomfort at that.

How had he ever compared a tiny creature such as her to a  _wolf_? To a viscous, towering, wild thing? She was small;  _delicate_. A  _fawn_  was a much better description to fit her big doe eyes and graceful movements. Or a  _bird_  with the way she cocked her head every now and then, small and pretty. Precious. She may be running with Wolves, but she fit the title of a Little Red Riding Hood more.

"Aaron cooks a mean spaghetti." he suddenly blurted out, and Beth erupted into a fit of giggles at it.

"Really?" she laughed, " _That's_  what you choose to say? When I say you can tell me  _anything_ , you choose to tell me about some guy's cooking skills?"

"S'wrong wit' that? It's not every day ya get a good plate of spaghetti these days."

Her smile thinned and became somewhat faint at that, and her expression became somewhat distant. "Yeah... I guess not."

He wondered if she was thinking about her father then, and the prison, and spaghetti Tuesdays, and everything good that had been left behind. He hardly blamed her. A lot of the time, he missed that stuff too. Not the stuff  _before_  the turn necessarily, though it had been nice to be able to walk for a beer and not get the chomp doing so... But it was more what he'd gained  _after_  the turn that he missed. The community they'd built at the prison had been something good, something that Alexandria was essentially too, but at the same time nothing like. The prison had been the  _first_  sanctuary... The first  _Home_. The first good thing they had made for themselves. And after the loss of that, and the realisation that things like that just couldn't last, Alexandria didn't really feel the same.

Well not to him at least.

"So this Aaron. He seems like a nice guy. What's he like?"

Daryl scratched his chin. This casual banter was nice, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were just ignoring other, more important matters. But like she'd said, he had missed her too. Quite a lot really, who was he kidding? He'd missed her so much he thought he was going to die, and though that sounded cringey too, it didn't make it any less true. He had nearly died after the ordeal, and he wasn't about to waste a chance to talk with her normally again, even if it did feel like they were avoiding subjects. But Daryl knew Beth. They would get to it. She could be very direct sometimes, a quality he liked about her. He wondered if there were any qualities he  _didn't_  like about her... Maybe the secrecy aspect about her, yeah, maybe that.

Wait, what had she said? She'd asked about Aaron. Yeah. Aaron.

"He's pretty fuckin' pushy and nosy about my shit." She laughed. Of course she would at something like that. Her and Aaron were one and the same when it came to entering his personal space bubble without an invitation. "He talks a lot, usually when I want him to shut up... He likes to force me into community things I don't wanna do, like house parties an' jobs an' shit, says I need to make an effort or whatever... He always ruins my traps whenever we go out huntin', steps on 'em all the time 'cause he can't see 'em or whatever, then scares off the prey..."

Beth was watching him with a warmth dancing in her eyes, and somehow he knew that despite all his negative words and complaints about Aaron... She knew he was fond of the man. She  _always_  knew.

_Oh._

"It sounds like he's good for you." she said finally. "You need someone like that who can keep you in line."

"Ah really?"

"Yeah really. You need someone keeping you on your toes and stopping you from biting people's heads off."

"I don't bite people's heads off!"

She laughed again, "You do! Don't we have enough walkers doing that already without you as well?"

"Well you're no  _better_  when it comes to bitin' people's heads of either."

She giggled, then smiled softly, almost sadly. "Yeah... I guess I'm not..." She looked down into her lap and chewed on her lip, before heaving a small sigh and looking back up at him.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, "For yelling at you."

Daryl felt heat creeping into his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his head. "No, uh... S'okay..."

"No... It's not okay, Daryl. I was hurt by what you said, but I went an' took it too far. All those things I called you... I didn't mean them, I was just mad... And a little upset."

"S'not your fault. I shouldn'a jumped to that conclusion."

"I hardly blame you."

There it was. Proof that she'd known where he was coming from. She knew... She  _always_  knew.

"With me not telling you the truth, of course you were gonna think something like that. It was a completely logical assumption, but I... I just screamed in your face for it... Like I did before."

"I crossed a line that time. The did it again this time."

"It still doesn' excuse the things  _I_  said to you."

Daryl looked at the tears forming in her eyes, and leaned forward in the chair to look at her. "Beth," he said quietly, "I'm not gonna say it don' matter, 'cause like you said... It  _does_ matter. But I'm not gonna let it ruin this, uh... This  _thing_  we have. We both said shit we regret, but that's just what people do. They do shit they regret... People jus' gotta find it in 'em to forgive 'em..."

That was a really lame way to say it, but he hoped he'd gotten the message across. They had both made mistakes, but they could rise above those mistakes... And be better than them.. Be  _good_. Because that's one of the many things Beth Greene had taught him... That you  _could_  be good.

And that it  _does_  matter.

Beth's lips parted and she breathed deeply. "...You... remember me saying that?" she said quietly.

"Well yeah..." he mumbled, "Why wouldn't I?"

"No it's just... I just didn't think you'd remember something I said from so long ago."

"I remember everythin' you said to me."

Fuck. That was awkward. Daryl hadn't meant for it to come out like that. He had tried to say something along the lines of... Heck, he didn't even  _know_  what he had meant to say, he just hadn't meant to say  _that_.

Of course he still remembered most of the things she had said to him back when it was just the two of them... How could he  _forget_? Her words were laced with such maturity and wisdom he found himself hearing Hershel in those words. Before Daryl had really had any reason to pay attention to the youngest Greene, he'd assumed it was Maggie who possessed most of their father's traits. But the second little Beth opened her mouth in answer to his deceleration of Zach's demise, he'd known there was just as much Hershel in her that there was in her sister.

_I don't cry anymore, Daryl. I'm just glad I got to meet him, you know?_

Beth's lips parted momentarily, before stretching into a tiny smile again. And the slight pink forming on her cheeks told him that he hadn't fucked up with his words this time.

"You do?" she asked, "Wow... I don't think anyone's ever... Well, before, no one ever really... No one ever really  _listened_  to anything I said properly... Everybody just kinda dismissed it and carried on. I don't think they really  _cared_  about what I had to say... I was just a child... Just..."

That surprised Daryl. He found that quite hard to believe, that no one would want to take every word she said and tuck it into their memory, because every word she spoke to him was precious and intelligent and everything he wanted to hear. To him, every sound she made was a miracle. Proof she was alive. Every sigh, every giggle, every moan... They were all magical to him. And he just couldn't understand how no one else had been able to see it like that.

And then it struck, that while he saw an enchanting, powerful person capable of so much inner and physical strength... She only saw the weak teenage girl she was before the turn, dependent on others for survival and her opinions invalid. Even now, she still thought she needed people to survive, even if they were murderers. She was still insecure about that. And Daryl would be damned if it was going to stay that way. He knew that she could take care of herself, but did she? Did she believe that? Whatever the Wolves were using against her... Didn't she believe in her own abilities to fight it?

_Everybody just kinda dismissed it and carried on._

He reached down and took her hand, and her eyes widened a fraction of an inch and she looked up at him. He squeezed her hand, so tiny in his, and opened his mouth, praying for the words he needed to come out this time. Please... This one time...  _Let them come out._

"I ain't like everybody."

He heard her suck in a sharp intake of air. Her eyes were big and blinking as she stared at him, mouth hanging partially open at his words, shining. And for a split second Daryl was sure that he saw  _stars_  glowing from deep within her eyes...

"... _Oh_." she breathed quietly, that one fucking majestic word. It held so many more words behind it, so many unspoken words of every emotion identifiable. That one word, that single  _oh_... Meant everything.

He swallowed and didn't realise he was holding his breath before he had to breathe in a load of oxygen suddenly or he'd die. Okay,  _die_  was maybe a little extreme, but he would definitely have choked if he didn't start breathing again. He decided then that whilst Beth may be crazy, and extraordinary, and magical... She was also  _dangerous_. She somehow managed to rob him of breath with just a look, and send his heart thumping out a wild beat as she stared deep into his eyes, and leaned in ever so slowly...

_I want you, I need you,_

_I'm sorry._

_...And you're sorry too._

And she kissed him again, leaning up on her knees from a perch on the floor, one hand clasped in his and the other pressed lightly onto his thigh.  _Light_ , that's what this kiss was. Chaste; just the soft press of her lips on his in the stillness of the surroundings. The fact that such a simple gesture of a kiss could have such an effect on him, even after all they had done already, was exceptional, and Daryl was thankful for the chair or he probably would've collapsed from his knees giving way.

His free hand came up and cupped the back of her head hesitantly, feeling the wiry, due to lack of hair products, but somehow also  _soft_  locks between his fingers. The hand on his thigh travelled up and pressed onto his chest, as she followed and pushed herself onto his lap, climbing up so that she straddled him.

Daryl's breath hitched in his throat as she pressed her hips downward onto his, and sent a jolt of electricity flooding through him. The pads of her fingertips were like fire on the exposed part of his chest through his shirt, and she trailed them along the flesh there, leaving trails of flame as she went. Beth moved from his mouth and kissed her way down his neck, nipping in certain areas and grazing his pulse point with her teeth. Every kiss felt like an apology, and every almost-bite felt like a warning. Daryl felt like his life was in her hands... One mighty snap of her jaw and it would all be over.

He was playing with fire and wolves... And it was great.


	5. A wolf and her pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taming a wolf is one of the hardest things to do - practically impossible. Because you must make her submit to you. Surrender. And Beth Greene has never before surrendered herself to Daryl, so why would she now?

Beth Greene had a way of manipulating the light around her, making it her own, and then using it to set fire to things around her, leaving those infernos burning behind in her wake. Daryl was one of those things left burning by her light, and he honestly couldn't be happier about being scorched alive. Because the flames she left licking at his skin were fulfilling in many ways, and overpowered the constant slow burning of the many burdens he carried.

Her tongue was hot in his mouth as it danced with his own, and his hand felt quite lost in the sea of gold that was her hair. She broke away from him and stared, eyes dark and pupils expanded insanely, giving her eyes that ruthless, hungry effect. She bit down on her bottom lip and smiled. That was the smile of the animal. The predatory gleam that shone in her eyes. She was the predator, and he was her prey... And frankly he was ecstatic about it.  _Let her hunt him_ , he thought. Let her show off the skills she'd learned from him during their days of tracking and training.  _Let her try to catch him_.

The buttons on his shirt were already undone, and she pushed his leather vest down his shoulders so it fell onto the back of the chair. Daryl slid his arms out of the black shirt he wore and tossed it, returning his hands to gripping her hips as she rubbed herself over him. She then ventured down to the belt that was still unbuckled from before and pulled it out of the belt loops, before moving onto working at his trouser bottoms.

His hand progressed up her back and wandered underneath the vest she wore to grope the skin there. She smiled against his stomach and planted little kisses just beneath his belly button, working at the buttons of his trousers and sliding down the zipper. She freed his painfully erect penis from its confinement and curled her hand around it firmly, glancing up at him through dark lashes with a grin. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying out when she gave him one long, hard stroke. Another stroke and  _oh Lord_ how was he supposed to keep it together? Stroke by stroke, his whines came out as half strangled groans, and she only tightened her hold on him.

She removed her hand from his shaft and pulled the vest up off her upper torso, and tossed it down with his, leaving her in her jeans and a faded white bra that showed her arousal quite clearly through the thin fabric. She smiled at his dazed expression and went back to stroking his cock, eyelids drifting closed as she got to work at making him come undone. And that wouldn't be long at this rate.

In any other situation, Daryl would undress her slowly and explore every inch of her, as he had on that long, but never long enough night at Alexandria. But now, this was about business, and he knew it was for her too. The quickening of her hand movements told him so. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand away from his throbbing cock, and fastened his mouth to hers. He moved his hands onto the hem of her jeans and tugged them down her thighs, motioning for her to sit up so he could drag them down all the way.

Now completely in her underwear, panties which were soaked he noted, she pressed her forehead against his and just looked at him. She cupped the sides of his face with her hands and rubbed her thumbs over the stubbly parts of his cheeks.

"I'm glad I got the chance to know you, Daryl..." she whispered.

_I'm just glad I got the chance to know him._

And she sucked in breath before continuing, "...But I don't know if I can lose what I have with  _you_ , like what happened with Jimmy and Zach." Her eyes drifted down to his lips, and her eyes shone with unshed tears. Daryl couldn't remember a version of a story where the wolf cried when devouring its prey.

"Not  _you_..." she trailed off.

"You won't."

…  _I can't lose you again..._

_You won't..._

Daryl leaned in and closed the remaining space between their faces, tugging her flush against him and smiling inwardly as he heard her try to suppress a moan at the sudden contact. He could feel how wet she was through the fabric of her panties, as she rubbed herself against his rock-hard dick. She panted against his lips and peeled said panties down her legs, leaving her bare and exposed against him. Stripped down to all she was...  _Light_ ,  _magic_ , and  _ferocity_.

He wondered if in all those fairy-tales Beth's parents had read to her in her childhood, after realising the princesses were alive... The princes took them back to their palaces, and stripped them down to all they was too... Because after thinking she'd died like that, and then discovering she hadn't... that would be the first thing on Daryl's mind if he was a prince. He'd shower her with riches and dress her in clothes coloured as bright as she was.

Only Daryl  _wasn't_ a prince, and Beth wasn't a princess, and neither was this broken shack a palace.

But that didn't matter. Because Beth was so fucking bright and beautiful, he bet she  _could_ be a princess if she wanted to. With her golden hair and huge blue eyes, she could pose as one quite easily.

Maybe she  _had_  been a princess in another life, with pearls and jewels and suitors all seeking her hand. But right here, and right now... She was just Beth. Not a princess, not a wolf, just lovely little  _Beth_. And that was as close to fucking magic that he was going to get.

"I don't wanna be afraid of feeling like this." she said quietly against his jaw, and he could feel the moisture on her cheeks pressed against his chin.

She lined herself up with his cock and pressed her palms flat into his chest. "Because this is what proves we're still alive, that we're still here, and we can still  _feel_... I don't wanna lose that 'cause of the way the world is."

Daryl eased her down by her hips so that the head of his penis was touching her slick folds, and looked up at her with a burning in his eyes. Flames dancing like they had when she'd asked him that question and breathed that small  _oh_  in response. Fire burning all throughout his entire body... as he leaned up and breathed against the smooth column of her neck.

"Then don't." he whispered back, and thrust himself upward deep into her, watching the look of sheer rapture spread across her face as she stifled a heavy moan that was half a sob.

Beth gasped and rolled her hips, slowly sinking down to sheath him deep inside her. She moaned and the jolts of her body travelled all the way to her inner walls, which squeezed him and made him release a moan of his own. He placed his hands on the back of her thighs just beneath her ass, and squeezed. She moved up and down, moans increasing in frequency, and panted into the crook of his neck.  _Fire_... Hot, scorching  _fire_  surging through his veins because of her rocking,  _burning_  him deliciously. He was on fire, and he loved it. Because it was she who was burning him, and he loved that too. He would swallow a thousand flames if it was she who poured the bucket of embers down his throat. Because she made him burn in such a way that he gained absolute pleasure that he didn't think was possible. Just a simple roll of her hips and he was a goner. It was insane, mad, completely  _mad_ , but he loved it. What she did to him was crazy, completely fucking crazy... But at the same time it was magical and soul-probing, that he relished in the burn.

"Daryl...!" she whined against him, cries growing louder as she fucked him, lips burning trails along the stubble on his neck and leaving glistening tears along his flesh in her wake.  _Daryl Daryl Daryl, oh God Daryl_ , she mouthed his name like a prayer along his burning flesh, baptising him with fire.  _Yes Daryl, feel me fuck you, oh God ah...!_

Her howling of incoherent words along his skin drove him wild, and he groaned long and loud, hands tight on her thighs and dick being virtually strangled by her dripping pussy. He felt himself coming undone, it wouldn't be long now, and he grunted into the soft crown of her blonde head, letting her fuck him. Because it was very much  _her_  that was fucking him this time. She was the one in control... And it was fantastic. He was letting her dominate him in every way, and the pleasure of the result was glorious.

Daryl wanted to explode. And he knew that if he didn't pull out soon, he was going to do just that inside her. And that wouldn't be good at all. They'd took the risk last time (well actually more like forgot) and it had been fine. But you couldn't afford to take the same risk twice, never twice. It was unlikely that Beth would survive a shot to the head a second time... That had been a miracle, like she was a miracle, and maybe with her help...  _He_  could learn to be a miracle too.

But first he really needed to pull out, he needed too... But  _God_  Beth's cunt milking his cock so wonderfully felt so fucking good he just couldn't stop the cries that escaped his throat with each thrust and roll of her hips. He was sure he was crying with her, or it was just sweat rolling from his eyes and into his open mouth that tasted like salt. He wasn't sure exactly what he was crying about, but he had a faint idea, and it was probably what she was crying about too. About nothing really, but at the same time about everything.

Every single thing came crashing down on him in that moment.  _Everything_.

Her smile in the dark, a giggle, the  _We should burn it down_... The warmth of her hand clasped in his, the smile across a candlelit table, the soft  _Oh_  that made his heart sing before she was ripped away from him by a white cross rapidly vanishing into the darkness, where he couldn't follow... And the sight of her across the hospital hallway, face bruised and beat but so filled with life and the desire to live, to  _fight_ , like she had against Dawn for Noah, and  _fuck,_  the  _bullet_...

Every single memory and feeling he felt with and for her came crashing onto him, and he pulled her up off him and exploded his seed all across her inner thighs with a deep moan and sob.

Beth breathed heavily before sagging against him, legs shaky and forehead pressed against his clammy chest. Her breath blew onto his sweat coated chest in tiny puffs of air that cooled his burning flesh, and he wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer into him. Daryl could feel the bristly feel of the scar on her cheek pressed against his chest, a reminder of the mistreatment she'd gotten because of his inability to catch up to that car... If only he'd been able to catch up to that  _goddamned_  car... She wouldn't have had to suffer like she did... Wouldn't have had to almost  _die_ , just as an act of defiance against a poisoned society that knew no justice, all for a boy she wanted to get home to his family.

Forget a princess, she was noble enough to be the knight. Because she possessed more courage and honour than any woman Daryl had ever known, and the fact that she'd nearly gone out in such a stupid way scared him to death. It scared him because he knew that if it ever happened to her again, he wouldn't be able to come back from it.

_What changed your mind?_

_You. Of course it was you._

Daryl could feel a different kind of warmth settling low in his belly as Beth strummed her fingers against his chest softly, right above his rapidly beating heart, that was beating completely for  _her_  in that moment. He was aware how cheesy that sounded, but he didn't really give a shit. She made him think all these cheesy things all the time, and it was embarrassing, but at the same time it felt good. Really good. Like whenever she smiled at him as they walked over the forest turf in their time together, in the heat of the day after having walked for hours already, each of their bodies coated in a thick layer is sweat, which she would just joke about saying if a river showed up she was diving in a head-first and fully clothed. And he would wait for her to turn her gaze from him, and then smile when he thought she wasn't looking... But she  _was_  watching. She was always watching.

He wondered if she had been watching him even before,  _way_  back to earlier times during the prison. Just innocent little glances he'd caught her giving him as she walked through the cell block with her arms full with Judith, small and probably meaningless looks... Only now they meant so much more. She had looked at him like he could be a hero, all that time ago. Like he was their group's valiant knight, always willing to raise his sword and slay the enemy. Their  _saviour_. Then she'd gotten herself stuck on the road with him, and finally seen just what an asshole he was... And endured his wrath of all the awful things he said to her in his drunken rage. Some hero he'd turned out to be.

_I'm sorry._

_Beth._

_I am._

_I'm so, so sorry._

Perhaps one day he would be able to say those words that swum around his head constantly, screaming to be spoken. Perhaps one day he could say them to her, and let her know that he really, truly  _was_  sorry for all he'd said and done. Because he was. He was sorry, and she hadn't deserved it at all, not her. No one deserved cruel words like that, but especially not  _her_.

"Back at Grady..." she murmured against his chest, "Before the exchange... I was really happy when I saw you standing across at the other side of the hall."

Daryl looked down at the pile of blonde locks resting against his chest.  _Happy_  didn't come close to the things he'd felt upon seeing her again in that corridor. He didn't think any words could ever describe how he'd felt in that moment.

"When I saw you and the others standing there, with your hostages to exchange... It dawned on me that it was really happening... That I was really getting  _out_... And when I saw your face again, I thought... It was actually real. You were real."

"Course I was real."

"And even knowing that... I still went and threw it all away by stabbing Dawn with those stupid,  _stupid_  scissors."

"...You were doin' it to save Noah. Ya didn't want him ta have ta go back into that place. You saved him, Beth."

"How is Noah by the way?" she looked up at him then, a smile on her features and eyes bright and hopeful. "I didn't see him when I was in Alexandria. Is he okay?"

 _Oh no_. She didn't know, and he was going to have to tell her. Noah's fate... The kid she'd almost  _died_  trying to save... Was  _gone_. Killed in the worst way possible, torn apart by the dead. Just the fate Beth had fought against for him... If she hadn't survived the bullet, her sacrifice would have been a waste, and  _he_  had to tell her that. How could he? Especially since she was giving him that hopeful look she wore when she'd snapped in his face to have some damned faith. _Faith ain't done shit._

"He's... He was..." Fuck. This was harder than he'd thought, and he'd already knew it was going to be hard. "...He's..."

The smile on her face faltered and confusion flickered in her eyes... Only to be replaced with realisation. Realisation of the  _truth_ , of Noah's fate...

" _No_..." she whispered, more tears building in her already soggy eyes and threatening to spill, as she looked up at him with lips parted in disbelief.

"...He's dead, isn't he?"

Daryl snaked his arm around her waist and brushed her cheek with his other hand, thumb tracing the dark line on that cheekbone. Moisture glistened thickly in her eyes and her lower lip trembled. That look very nearly killed him, and he wanted to wipe it off her face entirely and replace it with another one of her beaming smiles.

But that wouldn't fit right now. Because she was sad, and she had every right to be, because the boy she'd tried to hard to save was  _gone_ , and there was nothing she could do about it. He was gone and it just wasn't fair because she'd tried to fucking hard to keep him alive that she'd been willing to give her own life just so he could keep his. And that wasn't fair at all.

"That can't... That's... I don't get it." she choked.

_I get it now._

"Don' get what?"

"Why it's so  _unfair_. Why is it like this? Why does everybody have to die all the time?... Why does it have to be like that? I just don't get why that is...!"

"There ain't a reason, jus' happens now, ain't nothin' anyone can do to stop it... Y'can try, but you can't stop it. An' when it does happen to the people you care about... It hurts. It fuckin'  _hurts_  so much, an' there's nothin' you can do to stop it hurtin'."

"Daryl..."

Tears were wobbling at the edges of her eyes, threatening to spill. Tears for Noah... Tears for everyone they'd lost... And tears for  _him_. Tears for how he'd felt when she was gone, and the hurt that came with her being gone.

_You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone._

She was right... She was  _always_  right.

"You're here now."

"I am."

"An' you're not goin' fuckin'  _anywhere_  this time."

She smiled, a tiny, sad, but joyous smile, and she shook her head. "Not anywhere you can't follow."

He stroked her cheek again, a notion that was very unlike him, but he didn't care, because this was her, and he already did lots of things that were very unlike him when she was concerned. Like relate her to poetry, and literature... And think about silly fairy stories about princes and princesses... And ask her to _carry on singing_  whilst he lay in a coffin and allowed the soft notes of her voice to drift into his ears, desperately hoping that she wouldn't realise how much he did, and always  _had_ , loved the enchanting songs that fell from her lips...  _I thought my singing annoyed you_ , was what she'd said. Was she  _blind_  as well as crazy?

"After you all left me in the hospital after what went down with Dawn..." she whispered, "I woke up. I woke up and thought of you. And I knew that I had to get out of there to find you... To find you  _all_. So I left with Edwards and some of the other cops, to chase you down... But we couldn't find any trace of you for so long. I almost gave up..."

So here it was at last. The rest of the story. Finally, she was willing to share it with him.

"I was ready to give up... But then we found Alexandria, and I saw you and that other man, Aaron, taking off somewhere... And I knew that's where you all were."

"Why didn't ya show yourself?" he asked with a furrow of his brow.

"I  _wanted_  to, but then we came across  _them_...  _The Wolves_. And they took us."

"They hurt you?" Daryl's tone had taken a sharp edge, and Beth was smiling at the protectiveness in his voice.

"Not badly. Just a couple of scrapes and bruises from them tryna get information out'a us... But  _I'm_  fine... It's just..." She chewed on her lip and tore her gaze away from his, seemingly fighting an inner battle about something. But what, Daryl had no idea.  _What, Beth_... He wanted her to tell him so badly... To feel  _able_  to tell him, because she knew she could trust him. She had to know that much.

Because he trusted her.

_Maybe you gotta keep on remindin' me sometimes..._

Those words that were basically him saying... _I trust you to be there for me._

_Trust me._

It must have been pretty obvious what he was thinking, because when Beth met his gaze again, her eyes went wide and shimmered with unshed tears. And she knew, she just knew that he was saying she could trust him. Because she already did. But he could tell she was afraid. And if Beth Greene was afraid of something, then it must be pretty fucking scary because she was the bravest person he knew.

"But the others aren't fine."

The words fell from her lips quickly, like she was afraid of uttering them.

"… What'dya mean?" he asked, "What others?"

Her lip trembled again, and the wolf he'd seen as she rode him transformed into the image of a frightened fawn once again. Small... Delicate...

"The people I escaped the hospital with... And the people I found after that... There are so many... So many... And I can't  _save_  them." The tears did fall then, thick droplets rolling down her cheeks and dripping from her jaw as she shook her head. "Noah was easy, I got him out no problem, didn't matter if I got caught in return... But this time... I  _can't_. I can't do it."

"An' the only way of makin' sure they're safe... Is to to what the Wolves tell you?" he put two and two together.

She nodded, teeth clenched and lashes blinking away tears furiously. "I can't get them all out... But I can make sure they stay alive... Even if it is helping people steal, and do bad things... And  _murder_... I can't... I'm not like you or them, I'm not strong enough to do this..."

Her voice cracked as she spoke next. "...I'm weak but pretending to be strong for people so they don't die, and it's hard."

"Y' _are_  strong."

"I'm not. I thought I was... But I'm not."

"You  _are_." he argued, "You're keeping a whole bunch o' people alive all by yourself, doin' whatever ya can to make sure they stay alive. It's the best you  _can_  do in a situation like that."

"Any of you would be able to handle it way better than me..."

"You don' know that's true. You're tryin'. That's what matters."

Beth stared at him, and swallowed. Then smiled. Just fucking  _smiled_  like she did all the time, but there was something different about this one. Because whilst the others were so filled with light, this one was shining with her remaining tears, and the warmth flickering away was deeper than what he'd seen before. She was looking at him like he still was a hero, valiant and strong, never backing down and never failing. That was far from true, because he had failed. Multiple times by now. Failed  _her_  even... But even that wasn't enough to stop that warm awe in her eyes when she looked at him.

"Beth..." he said quietly.

"Yes?"

"What do they want? Why're they doin' this? They have ta have a reason..."

Her lips parted in opening to answer, but no words came out. She only stared at him with wide, tear-filled, ever warm eyes, and sucked in a deep breath. Beth wasn't one to be afraid of little things, but he could tell that she was afraid of this... Of  _them_. She may be posing as the big bad wolf to fit their criteria, but beneath all the fur and talons she was just the frightened little red riding hood, willing to do anything to save her grandma... Or in this case, a doctor, a few cops who'd abused and scarred herup, and a group of people she didn't really know.

 _Selfless_ , that's what she was. Completely and utterly fucking selfless. And kind. Beth was the kindest person he'd known, and that kindness had proven to be deadly, because though she may be immensely compassionate and gentle... That should never be mistaken for a girl not willing to rip her prey apart with her fangs for wronging her and her loved ones.

Beth Greene was meek, but she could also be a killer. A great, canine, fucking  _killer_ , who would tear you to shreds for messing with her. Because Daryl didn't think there was anyone in the world that could take her on, because even  _he_  had failed in that field. She wasn't like him or them... And he didn't understand that... But he knew she had beaten him that day outside the moonshiner's shack, when she'd screamed at him all tooth and claw. Defeated and devoured him completely, so like the walkers yet so different as well...

He must have missed the version of the story where the wolf triumphed against the hunter.

" _Beth_." he said again, harder this time. "What do they want?"

"...Alexandria... Gone, and everyone in it wiped out too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I'm going on holiday very soon and won't be able to update for at least two weeks. So I leave you on this note, and hope you've enjoyed. Leave your thoughts in the meantime and let me know what you think. Until next time!


	6. When he can't cry, he snarls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out that by trying to tame his wolf, Daryl managed no more than to scare her off. And Maggie is the LAST person he wants to see in his raging state, because he has a tendency to lash out and shout at feelings-probing Greenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back! Did you miss me? Because I missed you! I hope you've all been well whilst I've been gone!
> 
> I have more chapters written up for you to make up for the absence. Again, thank you for all your fantastic support, I really appreciate it! So I'll shut up now and give you the newest chapter.

_Alexandria... Gone, and everyone in it wiped out too._

Wiped out. Gone. So there was nothing left but ashes.  _We ain't ashes..._  Not yet at least. It wasn't just taking over the community...

It was  _annihilation_.

"Beth." Daryl's voice was harder now, he forced it to be, and he took a hold of her by her shoulders.

She stared back at him, eyes wide with fright like a spooked deer, and he could feel her shaking beneath his palms. She was doing that thing again. That dumb, reckless, fucking  _selfless_ thing where she put everyone else before her even if she didn't know them all that well. Willing to die for people who were virtually strangers. Was she  _stupid_? Why did she value her own life so little? Why was she so willing to throw it away for the sake of others? For Noah... For  _him_... And now for every damned person in that damned group she was trying to protect. She  _must_  have been stupid for doing that.

But deep down Daryl knew it wasn't because of that. This was how she was. She protected people, strove to save even if there was nothing she could do.  _Tried_. The polar opposite of him.

He stumbled through trouble with a fist held high, beating the crap out of the problem and somehow managing to be lucky enough to get out of it. But her... Her intentions were so much better than his. Her will, so much cleaner. But she didn't have the fist he had to beat the crap out of the problem.  _She had the voice._

And the voice wasn't enough in this situation.

"Let me help."

It was an order; a snap; a plea.  _Please... Let me. Ask me_.

But she would never ask. Because she had a pride that rivalled even his own. She would try to keep the matter in her own hands to avoid the blood spilling onto anyone else's fingers, no matter how hard she needed to share the burden. She would never want to put that on anyone else... On him. And he hated her for it.

"I can't." She was still trembling.

Can't.  _No_ , he thought.  _You can. You're just afraid to ask._ Because never could he ever recall a time, even before he got to know her so well, when Beth Greene had ever asked for help. Raising Judith... Finding her own damn drink... Taking care of herself... Even her suicide attempt, she'd took care of that herself. Despised the constant flocking everyone had done to her, always crowding, too scared to leave her alone. She handled that alone, she handled it  _all_  alone... Handled him alone.

She'd been tough all along, in her own little way. Right from the start.

But now... Daryl wanted to tell her that she didn't have to handle  _this_ alone. That she could hear him say  _Let me help you..._ And say  _Yes_. Yes to the sharing of the burden. Because she'd let him share his burden with her, helped him burned down his demons, and come on top stronger... But her. He'd done nothing for her. Just absorbed as much happiness and light from her that he could, then watched as she was driven away by an unknown car... Helpless to catch up to it no matter how hard he ran.

Right when she'd needed someone other than herself to handle it, he hadn't been able to save her. Even at the hospital during the exchange, he  _still_  hadn't been able to save her. And then they'd left her in a car alone in Atlanta... And she'd gone and saved herself  _again_.

 _Without his help_.

She'd learned to fight without his—or anyone else's—help. She had once been a den mother, or a cub needing protecting. But now, she was a lone wolf. A warrior; a protector.

"Daryl, I...!"

It came out as a gasp, and Daryl fastened his mouth onto hers and just kissed her. Kissed her until he was out of breath, cheeks hot and chest heaving, hands threaded into her short blonde locks and holding her to him.

"Please," he breathed between hard kisses onto her lips, "Please... Let me. Please. Fuckin' confide in me.  _Trust_ me."

Her legs wound around his waist again and he pulled her down flush against him. She was still bare and wet against him, and he breathed words into the side of her mouth. Pledging his alliance to her like a knight. Whispering,  _I'm here, I'm here._ Over and over again.  _Let me do this for you, let me help you._

"I... I...!

_Don't be scared. I'm here._

She leapt from on top of him then, just as he was about to pull her down from the chair and sink into her on the floor.  _Dived_  off him, so she now sat cowering on the floor, eyes big with pupils blown huge. Beads of sweat glistened on her brow, and she panted heavily through passion-bruised parted lips.

The frightened look she was wearing frightened him. She really was afraid. Afraid of asking. Afraid of the responsibility. Afraid of  _them_. The Wolf fuckers. So afraid she covered it with a mask of steel and bared her fangs. He wanted to reach out, pull her back into him and stroke the fur on her back. Coo her into the feeling of safety, tell her everything was going to be alright...

But then she put the mask back on, and Daryl's heart missed a beat.

"I have to go."

"Beth..."

"I have-"

"Beth."

" _No_ , Daryl!"

Tears streamed freely down her cheeks then, dripping down the scarred part of her cheekbone as she glared at him with eyes surging with both damp and fire. Elements warring within her eyes.

"You can't  _do_  this!" she cried, "You can't make me think all these things! Make me think they're possible... That we have a  _chance_... Then charge in blindly and die! You can't...!"

" _Beth_!"

"You can't leave me."

Raw emotion flooded with that sentence, more thick droplets rolling down her cheeks. Despair. Desperation. To do exactly what he wanted to do after going through the pain of losing her... Because it wasn't just him who had lost what they had.

She wanted to tuck him away into a safe little box, away from all the death and destruction. Keep him away from anything that might take him away from her.

It was selfish, maybe. Probably the most selfish thing she'd ever wanted, but Daryl didn't care. Because he was selfish too, for exactly the same reason.

_I don't know if I can lose what I have with you..._

_I can't lose you._

"Mom. Shawn. Patricia. Otis.  _Daddy_... They said they never would and they're all gone! They're gone an' there's nothing I can do to make them come back."

It was selfish, but it was nothing compared to how selfish he had been and was being.

"An' it's not just them... Lori. T-Dog. Andrea. Sophia. That old man, Dale. Merle. Even  _Shane_! The dying never stops! We've lost so many... So many're dead and they're never coming back."

 _Merle_. Daryl winced. Merle...

_The dying never stops._

Her breath came out as a choke and her voice cracked in the next sentence she whispered.

"You want me to have to add more names onto that list? Judith's? Maybe Maggie's?...  _Yours_?"

"Stop."

But she didn't stop. She never stopped.

"I used to be afraid of having my name added onto that list. Afraid of dying. But now... Now I'd rather that than anyone important to me dying instead... I get it now."

 _I get it now_ , she'd said to Dawn. But  _what did she get?_ he wondered.  _What_  was it she'd realised in that moment of death?

He didn't have to wait long for the answer, and the answer damn near broke him in two.

"You see, the thing is... It's easier to  _do_ the dying, than to sit back and live with the deaths of the people you love on your shoulders for the rest of your life. It's selfish... But it's easier."

 _I get it now_.

So did Daryl.

Hershel... Merle... They had it easy. They'd found peace... It was the people left, like him and Beth, that had to  _live_ with what had happened to them.

Live with the death.

"...I can't carry any more." it was barely a whisper.

_Neither can I._

"...Beth...?"

She was crying silently now, shoulders shaking from the intensity of her sobs and she had leaned her face downward so he couldn't see her. It pained him to see her like that, and pained him even more when he found he couldn't bring himself to reach down for her. He just sat on the chair, exposed and clothes hanging from him open, whilst she cried.

 _How do you think_ I _felt?_  he wanted to ask.  _When what you're afraid of happening to me, actually_ did _happen to you?_

His hand reached for her, but she stood up quickly, wiping her eyes on her arm. She looked at him then, eyes glistening and cheeks soaked with tears and dirt.

"I have to go." she said again, this time softer.

"Don't..."

"Daryl." It was soft, but there was a sort of harshness to the way she said it. Like a command.

 _Stay_.

Like he was that damned dog that came knocking on their door back at the funeral home.  _Jus' a damn dog._

She picked up her clothes and started dressing, his eyes fixed on her and unable to move, as she slid back into her dirty blue jeans and top. She fastened her cowboy boots back on and then looked down at him, mouth stuck open just staring at her from the chair.

"Please... Don't follow me." it was a pleading whisper, and she turned towards the door, hair swinging at her shoulders as she went.

" _Beth_."

It was his voice that had taken the pleading tone now, and he watched her from where he sat. She stopped at the door and turned to look at him, her eyes glistening.

"Don't..." she said, but he could tell that she wasn't referring to him following her this time. She was referring to something else.

"...Don't say it."

"Why not?"

"...'Cause it'll just make it harder for you. And I don't want that... Not for you."

"S'not really like you can help it." he mumbled.

She smiled then. A sad, wobbly smile that made Daryl's heart break, and he knew hers was breaking too.

"I know..." she said quietly, "But I can try. That's all I can do.  _Try_... An' I am... I am trying."

And with that... She left.

_Don't follow me._

He didn't.

.

.

The woods were quiet in the light of the evening, as Daryl trudged on through the fallen leaves silently, his footfalls soft like usual, but his heart heavy. The sky was lined with different shades of pinks and oranges, and he found himself glancing up and staring at the watercolour clouds.

A wind blew through the area then, a chilly, late afternoon breeze that picked up the ends of his hair and made them dance. His hand wandered down to his hip, where  _two_ knives sat instead of just one.

Like there was supposed to be.

He still hadn't given her back her knife. Still carried it like a dead-weight as if it were the only memory of her he had. Still like she was gone and it was all that was left.  _Still_.

Daryl's head spun like a kaleidoscope of her words, echoing into the darkness of his mind on repeat. And though he understood her motives... He was angry.  _Angry_... Wounded by the effects of her words.

Hurt.

Distressed at how she refused to put her faith in him, as he had in her.  _Have a little faith,_ she'd once told him. So why couldn't she? He supposed faith did little to save you in a den of hungry wolves, clawing at one another for scraps. But still... Still.

Why couldn't she trust him? Believe in him like he did her. He wanted to save her, and would, if only she would just come out and ask.

It hurt him that she didn't fucking  _ask_ for something so small that he would be more than happy to give. She had given him so much more, so what was asking for something as small as  _help_  in comparison to what she had given him? And he hadn't even needed to  _ask_ , because she'd seen what he needed and given it. He hadn't needed, or  _wanted_  at the time, her help. But that hadn't stopped her.

Nothing could stop her in that field. She was stubborn; brash; bold. And she didn't need permission...

So neither did he.

He strode on through the woods, bathed in the glow of the sunset, feet carrying him... God knows where... But that didn't matter, because they'd always managed to lead him to her. Somehow. Even without knowing the destination, they'd marched on to wherever she was, and he'd found her. And this time, wherever she was... She would get  _alive_.

"Daryl!"

Daryl turned at the sound of the overjoyed cry of his name, and saw  _another_  Greene waving at him from across the leafy path... But not the one he wanted.

"Daryl!" Maggie called again, waving frantically and darting to where he stood.

She was alone, he noted, and immensely glad to have found someone, even if it was him. But where were Rick, Glenn, and Aaron?  _Close_ , he hoped.

Maggie was on the same page as him there, when she asked: "Have you seen the others?"

He shook his head, and her face fell. "I've looked..." she said with a frown, "But I can't find 'em. Where the hell have they gone?"

 _Gone_. Daryl didn't like that word. Rick, Glenn, and Aaron weren't gone. They were  _here_ , wherever here was.

"They'll be 'round somewhere," he found himself reassuring the elder Greene sister. "Maybe jus' aroun' the corner if we look."

Maybe.

_Maybe it'll come back around. Maybe y'don' have to leave that. Maybe we'll be alright._

"Well c'mon then!" she said harshly, strong Georgia accent thick in that sentence. Rolling off her tongue like hot honey.  _Like Beth's._

They wandered through the woods for a while, praying no Wolves would stumble upon them again, searching for their three comrades. There were a dozen tracks on the damp leafy turf, more human than walker, but there were too many trails to determine who was who and what direction the leavers had been. They didn't find them... But in the end they didn't have to.

"Look!" Maggie's voice caught his attention and he turned it to follow her gaze.

Thick, bloody letters drawn across a chunky tree trunk. A message. For them.

_'GO BACK. —RICK, GLENN, AARON.'_

The relief on Maggie's face was outstanding, and her grin was jaw-splitting. "They're okay..." she breathed.

 _Not gone_ , Daryl commented mentally.

"Let's go then," he said dryly, ready to go on and try to ignore her damned heavy treading, when she stopped him.

"Wait..."

"What?"

His patience was wearing thin enough and he didn't want to explode on her. What did she want  _now_? Shouldn't she be happy her precious Glenn was safe and sound? Since he was all she needed after-

"...Did ya manage to find Beth?"

Oh.

Daryl's breathing quickened and he balled his fists tightly. He'd  _found_ her alright, done a lot more than just find her. But he couldn't say that to Maggie. Couldn't say that to  _anyone_. They wouldn't appreciate it... Wouldn't understand.

"Yeah." he said finally, voice low and gritty.

He heard her breaths exhilarate then at his answer, and she stared at him with huge green eyes.

"What'd'ya mean,  _'Yeah'_?" she asked, "That's  _it_? You actually find my baby sister, who could'a been beaten, worse or... Dead."

She spat that word, voice dripping with venom.  _Dead_. It was like she blamed him for what happened.

He blamed him too.

"An' you just say  _'Yeah'_? Where the hell is she  _now_!?"

"She's... Uh... She's not comin'."

Maggie blinked. "...What? The hell's that even-"

"It means she ain't  _comin'!_ " he snapped back.

She stepped back.

"I know what it means, but why?"

"Because... Because..."

_I can't._

"'Cause she can't."

Maggie's expression darkened, and she narrowed her eyes menacingly at him. "Excuse me?" she said through gritted teeth. "That ain't enough of a reason. Tell me, Daryl."

"S'a good enough reason for you. Probably thought it'd be enough to satisfy ya so ya could go back to Glenn-huntin'. Y'know, with all the Terminus signs 'n' all."

He said that last part so casually, and nearly laughed darkly when he saw Maggie pale. He knew she knew what he was talking about then, and he hoped it stung.

"That's... I... You don't know what I..."

"Lemme guess. I didn't know what you was goin' through."

"I'd just lost Glenn, my family... My  _sister_!" she screamed.

"Y'didn't  _know_  that!"

"An'  _you_  believed we'd all made it out alive too?" her words were cruel. Mocking. And Daryl paused. "Did  _you_  think anyone else could'a made it out of there alive? Probably Rick... But me... Or Carl?... Judith? Did you believe any of them made it out alive?"

_Everyone we know is dead!_

_We don't know that!_

Maggie's frown deepened, and she looked at him with pure hatred dripping from her gaze. She knew she had got him.

"That's what I thought." she spat, "So don't you ever...  _ever_ , lecture me about that. She was my sister. I loved her. D'ya know what it felt like to think I'd lost her? To hold onto the hope that she could be alive... Only to lose her  _again_  at that damn hospital?"

"... _Yes_."

He'd meant to say it in his head, but it came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. But even so... He didn't regret it.

"I know what it felt like." he said harshly, his voice like a snap in the silence of the wood, as Maggie stared at him.

Who was the last one to have seen her after the prison, he thought cruelly. Who was the one who never stopped believing in her... Searching for her... Who was the one who fucking carried what they'd thought to be her dead body out of that hospital!?

"So don' you ever lecture  _me_ on that... 'Cause you wasn't the only one hurtin' over it. Over her."

He could see the tears forming in Maggie's eyes at his words, but he didn't try to stop them building. Tried to tell himself he didn't care, but he knew that wasn't why. He  _did_  care, that was the problem. And he knew Maggie cared too. That was what got them both in this problem in the first place. They cared too much. About  _her_. Got too close.

_God forbid you ever let anybody get too close._

Daryl hadn't wanted to let anyone get close for those reasons, but somehow he sensed with Beth it was different. It hurt more than when they'd lost say for instance, Dale. Or Lori.

Even Merle to an extent.

Beth had done something to him that no one else had been able to do, and losing her had hurt like a bitch because of it. Because of what she'd done.

So he turned his back as Maggie cried, sobs quiet and shoulders shaking, and wanted to cry himself. But he couldn't. And not because Beth had told him she didn't cry anymore, but because she'd told him what Carl had said to her after Lori's passing. And the Grimes boy's words described the way he felt perfectly.

_It's like, you know you're supposed to feel like your sad... But it's like you've used it all up already._

Used it all up. Dried up all the tears that had fallen that day outside the moonshiner's shack. And he felt hardened, as Maggie cried behind him. Shed the remains as he carried her out of the hospital, then completely when he burned himself with that cigarette. He balled that burned hand into a fist.

 _Cry_ , he thought,  _cry while you still can. Because sometimes... Ya can't cry anymore._

He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and carried on, Maggie's loud and clumsy footsteps following several feet behind, accompanied by the soft sound of her sobs. Daryl still didn't cry. But he did emit tiny sounds of distress and rage.

 _Snarled_ , like the walkers that had ruined their world. But with all the kills, all the inhumane actions... What was really the difference between him and them anymore?


	7. Say who you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone wants to know the story, and Daryl has never been a very good storyteller. Especially when Maggie asks for the story of Beth Greene.

Daryl and Maggie hiked through the woods in the light of the descending sun in a tense silence, and inwardly breached relief at the sight of Alexandria's walls.

They didn't speak of what went down between them, and Daryl doubted they ever would. Maybe Maggie would to Glenn later, but not he. He liked to think it was because he saw no point in spouting nonsense that was merely his and Maggie's business to anyone else, but really he knew it was because he had no one really to tell.

No one who would really listen.

The only one who would was far away in a den of rapist, murderous pack animals, trying to keep a group of people she barely knew from being eaten alive by the monsters.

The front gate opened for them, and Maggie went running in to where Glenn stood with his arms opened for her, and she tucked her head into his shoulder and hugged him hard. The sight of their embrace made Daryl feel hollow, and he strode in after for Rick to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" Rick asked, his voice and expression sincere as always. Daryl struggled to tell when it was an act these days, but he liked to believe it was genuine for him.

"M'fine." he grunted in response, and Rick gave him half a smile.

The man rarely ever truly smiled anymore, well a genuine one at least, that's purpose wasn't to please the Alexandrian citizens. Never laughed either. Daryl supposed he wasn't the only one who had hardened because of their constant losses... Of course he wasn't.

_The dying never stops._

_Not even here_ , his brain screamed at the memory of Glenn's return when he told of Noah's demise. Not even in the safety of walls and civilisation could they be truly free from death's clutches.

Walls didn't always equal safety. They were an illusion. A false image of security to keep people happy. He wanted to believe that's what the prison had been too. A fake web of impending doom, maintained by the thought that the fences kept the dead out... Until they didn't. But the truth was that Daryl had felt safe in the prison.

 _Properly_ safe. Genuinely.

It's fall may have been inevitable, but Daryl had cherished that place as a home more than any. A place of safety and belonging. Not like Alexandria, which was cold and judgemental.

There would never be another prison, and despite all their acts to make it in this sanctuary... And Daryl sensed that the others felt that way too. The prison had been their first real home as a community, and they would never be over the loss of that.

Deanna came out then, and discretely studied him and Maggie for injuries.

"Everything alright?" she asked.

Rick gave her a nod. "They're fine." he said, "No need for worry."

"That's excellent. And as for the reason for your departure? Any luck?"

Daryl winced, and Rick, Glenn, and Aaron shook their heads. Maggie however, obviously didn't keep her big mouth shut. Not that he blamed her. If it was his sister out there, he certainly wouldn't keep a lid on the matter. But he was angry, and he needed someone to be angry at that wasn't Beth... Or himself.

"Daryl found her." she said, and Deanna's piercing gaze fell onto him.

"Did you?" she asked with a smile (one he sensed was partially false). "And why isn't she with you now, Mr. Dixon?"

 _Please don't call me tha_ t, he thought with an inward frown.  _Anything but that._

"She couldn't come, he said." Maggie answered for him. "I didn't see her, but that's apparently what she told him."

Deanna's smile vanished and she furrowed her brows. "Why ever not?" she asked.

_We can't trust her._

Those words rung in his ears and he felt his skin prickle with more rage. Rage at Deanna, at Maggie... At  _Beth_ , for making him unable to stop wanting to protect her. And protect he would, even though he was hurt. Because when Daryl Dixon was hurt... He responded with  _anger_.

"Inside," he spat harshly, "I'll tell ya inside. Ain't sayin' nothin' with these fuckin' cowards around."

The residents of the safe zone shuddered and exchanged glances, but Daryl didn't care. He knew how it must look, with his dark appearance and feral growls. To them, he was as good as one of those Wolves too. A monster they kept their children from, afraid he would snap their little arms right off if they angered him. They were right to be afraid of him. It was better than seeing right through the act and finding the frightened little boy Beth had found after all her digging, that cried in her arms, drunk and broken, like a small empty glass that was easily shattered.

Better to be the big bad wolf, than to be poor little Red Riding Hood.

"Inside." Deanna agreed, and walked off in the direction of her home.

Daryl and the others of their group there followed.

.

.

"She's bein' held there against her own will!?" Maggie cried out in horror.

"That's not exactly what Daryl said..." Glenn mumbled.

"Yeah but that's technically what's going on." she argued, "They're forcing her to do what they say 'cause they've got her people held hostage!"

_Her people._

It sounded weird to associate Beth having her own people, but he supposed that's what it was really. She was their saviour, their salvation. Without her, they would be dead. She was doing everything in her power to protect them, even if it meant the end of her own life.

So in a way, yes, Daryl supposed they  _were_ her people.

"And she said all of that to you, Daryl?" Deanna asked him calmly, her hands clasped together on top of the table she sat at, staring up at him with those careful calculating eyes.

"Yeah." he grunted, uncomfortable under that gaze.

"So what do you plan to do?"

"Uh..."

Storm in? Kill them all? Slaughter them? Or march in and die at the hands of dirty terminators, and get Beth and her people killed too? Daryl found that neither option was preferable, even though he thought the first one should have appealed to him just a  _little_  more. But in all its simplicity, they both boiled down to the same thing.

 _More killing_.

The dying never stops. No way to avoid it entirely. It was getting harder and harder to avoid it.

"We do what we need to do." said Rick firmly. "What we didn't do back in that hospital... We get her back and kill every last one of them."

_If things go south, we kill every last one of 'em._

"We take them."

_Then we'll just take this place._

Daryl felt a chill run down his spine at the lowness of Rick's voice. He didn't like that tone the man took on sometimes. That dark, ruthless tone that had been shaped by years of loss and pain. And  _leadership_. That's what being in charge did to a person after a while. Darkened them. Changed them.

And it was what was happening to Beth.

 _I wish I could change,_ she'd said. Not like this though, he shook his head. Never like this.

"Rick." Deanna's tone was sharp. Warning. "I've said this already. We don't kill unless absolutely necessary."

"What, you mean unless the abuse of your wife gets bad enough?" Rick asked darkly. "I suppose you want us to go and just  _'separate'_ Beth from these Wolves? So it can get  _'better'_."

Daryl didn't know what Rick was talking about, but Deanna certainly seemed to. Her eyebrows shot down and her mouth pressed into a firm line.

"Pete and Jessie's situation is not remotely the same as this. Don't make this into something it's not." she said coldly, and Daryl finally made the connection.

 _Jessie Anderson_. The woman Rick had taken a friendly —or maybe more— to, who'd offered to cut Daryl's hair as she'd done Rick's. She seemed nice enough, but Daryl had been sure to steer clear from her. She was too blonde for his liking, and brought up too many memories he'd rather forget...

Michonne spoke up then, and cut the tension in the air. "Let's move back on to the subject, shall we?" she said dryly. "Save this for another time."

Daryl couldn't help but notice the sharpness in her tone, as she steered the subject away from the Anderson woman. He didn't like to dwell on other people's affairs, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to the sharp edge of Michonne's voice. Something that was linked to how the samurai would sometimes look at Rick, and he would return the look, and Daryl would faintly recognise that look as something he'd shared with Beth before.

"We will be coming back to this." Rick promised Deanna with a hard look, which she returned.

"So what do we do?" asked Glenn, now they were back on the subject matter.

Rick turned to Daryl. "Did she tell you how many of them we're up against?" he asked.

Daryl looked down. "No."

"What about where their camp is? She say anything about that?"

"...No."

"Damn it!" Maggie slammed her hand down on the table, composure completely gone. "What the hell were ya  _doin'_ when ya found her? Gawkin' open mouthed in shock?"

 _Sort of._ But Daryl wouldn't say that. Especially not to Maggie. He hadn't really had time to talk during what he and Beth had been doing, so he hadn't gotten much information at all. But he couldn't say that either.

"...There wasn't much time t'talk." was what he settled for.

"Or holler for us either, I presume? For her sister." she said coldly.

 _She didn't want you,_ Daryl wanted to snarl.  _She didn't want me to call for you. She was fine with me... She was_ always _fine with just me._

Beth had been the safest he could keep her when it had been just the two of them. And it had been better that way. It was selfish, he knew it was, to think like that. But Daryl would give anything for those days again, just him and hopeful little Beth out in the wild – living off berries and game, bathing in the creeks, and practising tracking and hunting. Living. Showing each other different ways of living, learning from one another... Growing together.

Safe. She'd been safe. But then he'd done the stupid thing and let her get out of his sight, and she'd been taken.

Then beaten, and scarred, and broken. All because of his  _stupid_ mistake of opening that  _fucking_  front door.

Glenn put his hand on Maggie's shoulder. "You're mad, I know, and you have every right to be. She's your sister, and she's out there in a dangerous place with dangerous people... But don't take your anger out on Daryl."

Daryl blinked in surprise. Of all the people, he hadn't expected  _Glenn_ as an ally. Glenn standing up for him against Maggie,  _that_ Daryl hadn't seen coming.

"We're all worried about Beth, but so's Daryl." Glenn continued. "He cares about her too, and he'll do whatever he can to save her."

Glenn looked at him then, and Daryl swore the young man could see straight through him. See all the thoughts he had especially reserved for Beth, every mushy thing he'd thought about her, every feeling of wonder when she smiled at him... And every moan she'd drawn from him.

Daryl turned his head away.

Maggie's expression lost its menacing factor and she slumped back in her seat. "I know..." she sighed, "I just want her back."

"We'll, uh... We'll get 'er back." Daryl said, looking at her. "We will. I promise."

Maggie gazed at him, once cold green eyes sparkling with tears like the ones she'd shed in the woods under the cruelty of his words, and looked like she wanted to  _smile_. Smile at  _him_ , even after all he'd said and done. It was obscene.

But then Daryl remembered the music box, small and bright and clogged with grit. It hadn't played when Carl had first given it to her,  _was broken_. But he'd not been able to help himself, and taken it when she slept, and opened it up. Picked the tiny grains of grit out of the gearbox with his too big fingers and cleared it out as best he could, wiping it down with his shirt.

 _Like he was cleaning Beth's wound._ Picking the shattered fragments of bullet out of her head and cleaning her. Doing the one thing he'd failed to do...

_Saving her._

But no matter how hard he worked at clearing the thing, at the end of the day, it was still only a broken music box. And Beth was still gone and not coming back.

Until he'd cracked the lever on the back of the box and it had sprung to life unexpectedly, the tiny blonde ballerina inside twirling in tune with the light melody that played. And he'd held the thing in his trembling hands and whispered quietly to it so no one would hear...  _Keep singing._

_Sing for me._

And when Maggie had woken up soon after and crawled over to sit beside him against the barn wall, he'd given it to her and told her what he'd done, and she  _had_  smiled at him then. And then he knew that what he'd done was right. Because that little ballerina could keep on dancing for them. The music would play some more, and she would keep on singing. Even if it wasn't really her.

"We need a plan." Glenn said, determination sparkling in his eyes.

A plan.

Maggie agreed with a smile then. "Yes!" she cried, "But what?"

Daryl watched them all think. Rick with that cold glint in his eyes that made Daryl shiver at the thought of what his answer would be; Glenn and Maggie passing each other silent glances of thought; Michonne rubbing a finger along her lips as she stared down at the floor; and Aaron rubbing the back of his head in the doorway.

All the while, Deanna just watched them with her clever, calculating eyes that pierced right through you. Her gaze fell on him the most, like she was trying so hard to see through him, but struggling. She seemed to have difficulty reading him, and it had become quite a fascination for her.

Daryl wished she'd just drop it and leave him alone. He wasn't a project or mystical box to be opened and inside mysteries revealed.

"Is there any way we can get into contact with Beth again?" Aaron asked suddenly, and all eyes went to Daryl once again.

He fidgeted under the intensity of their gazes. He just prayed that his answer wouldn't draw one of their creepy smiles, if they liked it. But he was pretty sure they weren't going to.

"I 'unno..." he mumbled awkwardly, thankful that no one smiled.

"But couldn't you..." Maggie trailed, her voice taking on that helplessness quality that made his posture break with her next words. "Couldn't you find her again? You're good at that... Even I can't do it."

_Find her again._

It was kind of like some sick, twisted, fucked up game. Like hide and seek. Beth hid, and he did the seeking. Only unlike the hider in the game... Beth didn't want to be found.

_Don't follow me._

He nearly snorted at that _. Fat chance_. It was like telling a bee not to follow a jar of honey... Weird comparison, yet another one to add to the collection. He imagined what it would be like to have a jar labelled:  _'A penny for every time Beth made me think mushy shit'_. It would get full pretty fast for one, but Daryl hadn't seen a penny in ages, so he couldn't really fill it with those.

Maybe walker fingers would do the trick? He thought of a jar sitting by his bed filled with an array of walker fingers and did smirk that time. What would the residents of Alexandria think of  _that_?

"Isn't there some way we could like, I don't know... Get a message to her in secret?" Glenn queried, rubbing his head.

Aaron laughed despite the situation. "Could send in a messenger pigeon like they did in the war." he joked.

"You see many pigeons flying around on your recruiting trips, Aaron?" Deanna asked with the raise of a brow –  _the famous Deanna brow raise,_ Daryl called it. It was so distinctive and unique that it had to be given its own title. And there it was. The famous Deanna brow raise.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair and laughed again. "Just a suggestion." he smiled.

"I can't remember the last time I saw a bee." remarked Michonne, "Or a ladybug."

 _Daryl_  remembered the last time he'd seen one.

Maggie stood up at that, her eyes wide with realisation and she clasped her hands together. "I got it!" she cried.

Got  _what_?

"Uh, what?" Glenn voiced Daryl's and everyone else's thoughts.

"How we can get a message to Beth." she said, like it was obvious. "It came to me when Michonne said ladybug... Beth's nickname was Doodlebug. It was what Daddy... He called it her."

" _Doodlebug_?" Glenn's voice held traces of laughter, and it shone in his eyes too.

Daryl had to agree, it was a pretty funny name. He would be sure to use it when he and Beth crossed paths again.

 _When_. He'd said  _when_. Not  _if_... When.

Even his subconscious was intent on seeing her again.

"And what form will this message take?" Rick asked, "Since they're are no pigeons we can use."

Rick wasn't smiling, but his voice had softened when he'd said that and his eyes shone with a similar amusement to Glenn.

Daryl smiled mentally. So Rick wasn't as stoic and cold as he made out to be. Damn. He was almost as good at acting as Carol was with her 'invisible' act.

Maggie smiled at the question (not the pigeon part, the actual question) and crossed her arms proudly. "The way I should've used to send her a message before, after the prison, like I did for Glenn..." she answered, sending Daryl a glance, and Daryl furrowed his brow in thought...

Until he understood exactly what she was talking about.

"...We're gonna paint a note for her to see. In walker blood."

Daryl did smirk then.

.

.

The letters were thick, clumpy, sprawled out in red across the trunk of a tree in the woods. Maggie's fingers were also covered in that same red, and the pads of her fingertips were stubbed raw from the friction against the rough exterior of the tree.

Daryl regarded the bloody words on the tree with guarded eyes, bangs having fallen over them so they were mostly hidden from view. The message read:

_'DOODLEBUG. MEET AT THE LAST PLACE YOU SAW DIXON.'_

Daryl wanted to laugh at the Doodlebug part, but he sensed Maggie wouldn't really appreciate it if he did.

They didn't sign the end of the message with their names for the same reason they'd avoided using Beth's name, just in case the Wolves or any other foe found it and put two and two together. Using Dixon instead of Daryl had been Maggie's idea as well, and his mind automatically went to Beth's nickname for him because of it.

He wondered if she, too, would read it and mumble,  _Yes Mr. Dixon_ to herself.

The message wasn't much, but it was something, and they hoped that she would be able to decipher whom it had been written by... Though the pet name and mention of Dixon should make it clear enough.

"I hope she sees it..." Maggie said more to herself than him, since it was only the two of them out there. It was only a small job after all, therefore only requiring them.

He hummed in agreement and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. He hoped Beth would see it too, and do as it said.  _Hoped_. There was no time assignment though, so it was uncertain when they were supposed to meet exactly. But it was  _something_. He was trying. And so was Maggie this time.

 _I am trying_ , Beth had said to him.

She could still try with  _help_.

"When you told me why she was with those men..." Maggie started, "I was surprised. I know it's me underestimatin' her again... But I thought they were keepin' her there against her own will."

"They are." Daryl responded gruffly.

"I know  _technically_ yeah, but I mean... I didn't expect that she was stayin' for the reason she was stayin'... To  _save_  people."

Daryl looked at Maggie, her gaze fixed on the bloody message written on the tree, green eyes lost in emotion.

She continued.

"The Beth I knew... She was the baby, the little one I had to look after, even before all this. She was my responsibility.  _She_ was the one who needed savin'... An' hearin' about her sticking her neck out on the line for a bunch of people, even against a band of barbarians... I was surprised. That's not the Beth I knew, who shivered when we watched the news at the start of the turn, an' took a blade to her wrist... That's  _not_  the Bethy from then."

_I'm not like you, or them, but I made it!_

Tears were wobbling at the edges of Maggie's eyes, and she turned to look at Daryl then.

"But  _you_..." her voice was quiet... Searching...  _Understanding_. "You knew her so much differently than that...  _Saw_ her in a different way t'me. You saw what she was capable of, an' you believed in her. Even after ya lost her... Unlike me, you never gave up."

Daryl felt like he should say something, but Maggie didn't seem quite done yet, and she didn't look like she wanted to be interrupted. So he just listened. Because that was the only thing he  _could_  do. The only thing he could offer.

To say,  _I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was such an asshole._

_I'm sorry I feel this way about your sister, and can't stop being selfish._

"That mornin' in the barn, when y'gave me the music box... You said she was tough. I thought you were jus' sayin' it to make me feel better, to make yourself feel better too. But... You  _meant_ it, actually. You saw she was tough an' you believed in her. I've known her nearly all my life, but compared to you... I feel like I hardly know her at all."

The tears did fall then, and her lip trembled.

"...What was she like? The Beth ya saw?... The Beth you  _see_? Who  _is_  she?"

How did you sum up someone like Beth Greene in a few words?

Were there even just a few words that could  _define_  what Beth was?

Daryl thought he could probably fill a novel with the things he saw in Beth. Of  _how_ he saw her...  _Like a goddamn romance novel..._ But he had to try explain some of it to Maggie.

_I'm trying._

"...She wasn'  _unlike_ how y'knew her..." he said, kicking some leaves with his foot. "She  _was_ all those things ya saw... Nice, gentle,  _good_... She wasn'  _not_  any o' those things... But she was  _more_. She  _is_ more."

More.

"Reckless... Rash... Stubborn as a damn mule, I'll tell ya that... But she was smart, real smart. Clever, quick ass learner. An'..."

It was very hard to try sum up Beth Greene, but he was trying. Like he'd said to Carol in Atlanta. Because they weren't ashes anymore, they couldn't afford to be.

You have to try climb out of the flames, or you burn, just like the rest of the world.

You become ashes then.

"...An' ya don't have t'worry about her too much, 'cause she's powerful."

"An' she doesn't know it?" Maggie asked. "Doesn't know she's powerful?"

_She didn't know it. But she was._

She is.

"...She's formidable." he said, "So them Wolves don't stand a fuckin' chance."

Maggie smiled at that, through glistening eyes. A proper smile that didn't make Daryl feel uncomfortable. And after saying all that about Beth... Daryl thought he might smile too.

Beth might have been kind and sweet and gentle, but also fierce and brash and bold... But she was whatever she wanted to be. Anything she decided she could be, she strove to become. A fighter, a warrior, a saviour, a  _hero_... Whether that was who she was  _before_ , or who she was  _now_.

Because you have a say in who you are.


	8. Buzz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bees are attracted to honey, so maybe Daryl's just that. Beth seems to think he's sweet enough. But he's not always sweet. Sometimes he's the tough one; the hardened one. He's in charge, and she answers to him instead.

They had a plan.

Perhaps not a flawless, magnificent, blow-you-away-with-its-awesomeness kind of plan. But it was a plan all the same. And it was simple, which really was what mattered the most. Maybe not as simple as the Grady exchange plan, but Daryl remembered how  _that_  had gone down. Simple wasn't always the best cause of action, it seemed. And the last thing they all wanted was for the same thing to happen twice in a row. They had to be careful. And clever.

"Beth can do it." Glenn had said with a smile upon hearing the plan. "Noah told us what she did in that hospital... She can do this." His smile was sad at the mention of his friend, and held traces of guilt. Guilt of letting go.

Deanna, as usual, had been sceptical. But she hadn't outwardly rejected the idea completely. It seemed she was happy to do just what Daryl was.

To  _try_.

And for once he found himself on the same page as the woman. If she was willing to at least try, there was a chance. They all had a chance. Perhaps the last chance there was, but a chance all the same.

"If you're sure." Deanna said.

"She can." was Maggie's firm reply to that, and she looked straight at Daryl after saying it. "Just trust us."

Perhaps Deanna couldn't yet trust Beth... But she trusted Maggie. And if she could trust one of the Greene sisters, then she could learn to do the same for the other.

The plan was simple. It was just up to Daryl to explain it to Beth and hope she would follow it. Follow  _them_. Like she'd followed away from a burning farm and into the harshness of winter on the road, blindly following a pack of strangers who'd burned her home to the ground... But unlike then, he knew now that she trusted them. That much hadn't changed. Trusted them deeply, would  _still_  follow them into the dark, like Daryl would follow her. She just didn't want to have to burden them.

But she needed to know that she  _could_ ask for help in this. She didn't have to prove herself now. Not anymore.

And especially not to him.

So Daryl was sent off out of the safe zone that night with his bow and the darkness to cover him with its shadow. And he made his way to where he'd last seen the formidable blonde. He passed the tree Maggie had left the message of bloody letters on her way, and stopped in front of it. It was hard to see in the dark, but the light of the moon revealed something that hadn't been there when he and Maggie had left the message... A small addition to the message...

 _One word_ , carved into the bark beneath the messy scrawl, small and easy to miss. Just one word.

_'BUZZ'_

Buzz? Like a bee? Or the beating of insect wings...

Daryl smiled.

Like the beating wings of a ladybug in flight.

He hurried the fuck up and darted along in the cover of the trees, footfalls as light as he could keep them without the earlier dampness that softened the dry crunch of the leafy turf. Thankfully—or hopefully— there was no one and not _hing_ in sight. The last thing he wanted was to stumble into a walker, or worse, one of the enemy. The living kind of enemy, not just the dead.

So many enemies... So much unnecessary fighting, and killing. The dying would  _never_ stop at this rate. Was there even anything left that  _could_ stop it?

Daryl wandered through the woods quietly, stopping whenever he heard a sound, usually one that belonged to an owl or some other nocturnal animal. He carried on until the shadowy silhouette of the shack where he and Beth had made love came into view.

It was quiet, apart from the occasional hoot of an owl and crickets chirping, and Daryl leaned against the side of the hut and stared up into the canopy above. Cicadas cried loudly in the heat of the summer night, and any worry of being heard by an enemy left Daryl's mind. It was hard to hear himself even  _think_.

He pulled out the box of cigarettes he kept in the inside of his jacket and took one out to hold between his lips. He drew out the lighter then, and flicked the switch that lit the tiny flame, and held it to the end of the cigarette's body to start burning, the tiny flame eerily bright in the dimness that swallowed him whole.

"You're worried about  _me_ getting myself killed, an' here you are smoking one of those."

The whisper that came out of nowhere caught Daryl off guard, and he jumped in alarm, lit cigarette falling from his lips and landing at his feet. He turned... And there she was, standing beside him with her back pressed against the shack too, a grin on her lips and her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"Beth." he said quietly, heart leaping and stomach doing flips at the sight of her.

 _You came_.

She looked down at the fallen cigarette, and leaned and picked it up. She held it between her fingers and just stared at it, a tiny trail of smoke rising from the burning tip.

"' _Cancer-sticks',_ my dad always called 'em. I always said I'd never smoke one," she remarked, watching the end light up with fascination. "He called them that 'cause everybody always used to say it gave you lung cancer, an' I didn't really fancy getting that."

"Not everybody said that." he said, taking the cigarette back when she handed it and putting it back between his lips.

"Well they either said that or:  _It's the best thing you'll ever try, give it a go and get addicted and never be able to put one down_."

He shot her a look. "Don' think they said that either."

She rolled her eyes and half smiled.  _Genuinely_. "Well it's what they were  _thinkin_ '." she said. "But their tricks didn't work on me. Never smoked a single one."

"Good for you." he mumbled, inhaling the smoke and then removing the thing from his mouth to exhale a cloud of grey smoke.

Beth's eyes watched the smoke intently, and he could see the glow from the end of the cigarette reflecting in her eyes, orange flickering in blue depths. Like glow stone at the pit of the raging oceanic whirlpool. He briefly wondered what she would look like smoking one then, holding the tube to her lips and inhaling deeply before breathing out a puff of dark, toxic air...

The image was a lot more arousing than he'd thought it would be.

"I told you we couldn't meet up like this." she said then, pushing the thought out of this head.

"No... You said not to follow ya." he corrected smugly. "I didn't. Ya came here all on your own accord."

She looked like she had something to say to that, but lost it and looked away in defeat. "Well we shouldn't anyway," she settled for, "It's not safe to."

He tapped the end of the cigarette with his thumb and let the ashes from it fall to the earth.

"...But still, here y'are." he muttered, voice carrying the impression of a smile though his exterior remained partially stoic.

She did smile properly then, the old Beth smile like she used to.

"Yeah... Here I am... Flew as fast as I could to get here too."

Buzz.

"Good job...  _Doodlebug_."

Her smile widened, and she looked at him with glittering eyes filled with laughter. "It was Maggie that left the sign wasn't it?" she asked, Daryl not missing the trace of hope in her voice.

Hope... That her sister hadn't given up on her this time, and thought to leave her a note. That she still cared, and was looking. Would never  _stop_  looking.

"Think the name it was addressed to made it pretty clear who wrote it." he answered, "Only one person in t'group who could'a known you had such a weird pet name."

"It's not that weird. I was kinda surprised she didn't sign it with 'Magpie' at the end."

" _Magpie_? That hers?"

Beth nodded, and he wanted to laugh at the glint in her eyes.

"Looks like I got a new name to shout whenever I need 'er." he half chuckled.

He imagined shouting  _Magpie!_ whilst searching for her in the middle of a sea of walkers, or from across the street in Alexandria. He imagined her reaction to his name calling, and that made him want to laugh even more.

He knew he should really be telling her the plan he'd come to tell... But he just couldn't help it. Talking to her was so uplifting, so...  _familiar_ , that it just warmed Daryl's heart so fucking much, and he didn't care if that seemed mushy. He  _loved_  talking with Beth, even if it was about silly nicknames like Doodlebug and Magpie, when the trees listened and whispered their secrets along through the wind... Carrying them straight to the enemy.

 _Shit_. Beth had been right about the dangerous part of their meeting. They needed to get out of sight before something spotted them.

He was a breath of cigarette smoke away from suggesting they should go inside, when as he lifted the cigarette bud away from his lips to exhale it out... Beth cupped his cheek suddenly and pulled his face down to her, and kissed him before he had chance to release the smoke. He gasped and the smoke left his mouth to enter the cavern of her own in a warm trail, and she removed her lips from his own to gently blow the dusty warm air out onto his jaw.

She blew the remains of smoke out, lips puffed and parted, and looked up at him through thick dark lashes. The breath of smoke was warm against the side of his face, and he had to release a breath of his own he hadn't even realised he was holding.

"I saw people do that before..." her voice trailed almost shyly, breath hot and raspy against his mouth. "I films and stuff... I always thought it looked cool... An' it was kinda... Weird."

" _Weird_..." he repeated, her palm still lightly cupping his cheek and thumb tracing the rough stubble there.

Weird, maybe. But it was the most intimate thing he'd experienced, even after what they'd done already. There was something about the way she'd launched herself onto him unexpectedly and sucked the smoke from him, then blew it back out again. Like a dragon... With eyes gleaming in the darkness, and lips curling up into a wolfish grin that flashed pristine teeth.

He realised he compared her to a lot of animals then. Wolves, deer, birds, insects, and now...  _Dragons_. It wasn't a real animal like the others, but it fit her well, with all the fire and ashes she left in her wake. Like burning down the moonshiner's shack all that time ago.

She left a blaze in her footprints, and scorching trails of fire along his skin whenever she touched him. Even her breath was hot, like it was laced with smoke and ember, like she could breathe out an inferno onto him at any second. And he wouldn't even try to evade the blast. Because burning under her touch was a burn he relished in.

A burn he craved.

They kissed again, only more deeply this time with his arms winding around her waist and pulling her against him, and her hands curling behind his neck and pulling the long strands of hair there. Daryl's brain screamed: _The plan! The plan! Tell her the plan!_ like a siren, over and over again. But he ignored it and just thrust his tongue into her mouth and lapped at hers roughly. He would tell her, just not right now. Perhaps it was selfish of him to delay telling her just because of his own desires. Perhaps it made him the type of man he didn't want to be, for Maggie and Hershel's sakes. But the feel of her lips pressed flush against his and the swirling of her tongue around his, hot and probing, felt too  _good_  to stop. Too  _right_. And Beth must have thought similarly, because before he knew it she was lacing her fingers through his and leading him into the shack.

She led him into the darkness of the inside, and he kicked the door shut with his foot. Her hands were at his leather vest in an instant, tugging it down his shoulders along with his shirt, whilst meanwhile he made work at her top, pulling it up over her head and tossing it aside. Daryl hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her jeans and slid them down her thighs, her kicking off her boots and socks so they could fall all the way off and onto the floor. He followed her into the darkness willingly, and let it swallow them both.

Now clad only in her underwear, he hooked his arms underneath her knees and scooped her up, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively and arms coiling around his neck. The crossbow had hit the floor with a loud  _thud!_ long before, and lay disregarded in the midst of the other abandoned clothes, and Beth had dropped her gun too.

Daryl pushed her rather brutally against a wall of the hut, and she gasped at the sharp contact, the sound very evoking as he pressed the hardness in his pants against her. Her thighs squeezed his waist and her hands threaded deep into his hair, fingers yanking harshly as he nipped her lips with his teeth.

"I gotta tell y'somethin'." he said between bites, his hips rolling against hers and drawing little gasps from her under the movement.

"Whatisit?" she breathed all at once, his teeth catching her bottom lip and pulling, making her moan when he let go.

"Somethin' that'll take a while to explain."

His hand moved up and cupped one of her breasts through the thin material of her bra, and give it a firm squeeze that had her gasping for breath against his lips but still pushing his head further onto hers, shoving it against the wall roughly.

"Then it can  _wait_ ," she whispered, body arching against his palm where he held and kneaded her breast. "We got time."

 _Time_.

Time was the  _last_ thing they had in a world like this. The biggest uncertainty there was. It was never certain when a walker would come stumbling across, or they'd be discovered by people, maybe killed... The point was:  _anything could happen._ There was never  _just time_ anymore.

Maybe in Alexandria, where time seemed to stand still and every day was the same; people going about their jobs, laughing, and throwing silly house parties.

But that wasn't the real world. Not anymore. It was an illusion. A fantasy of what people wanted to be true, because it was what they'd been journeying towards all this time. Towards safety, a haven, where they could live in peace without the threat of walkers. A place they'd tried to create  _themselves_ at the prison. That they'd striven so hard for... Fought until some of their very last breaths... Only to realise none of it had ever been real.

Alexandria served as a decent place for survival in those terms, to be just that. A makeshift home. One to meet their expectations, and for them to live out the rest of their haunted days in... A chance to  _be_  again. A new start.

But Daryl found he still couldn't  _live_ in there. Couldn't relax and just  _be_. Or feel like he belonged. Because he  _didn't_ belong in a place like that. He never had, and her certainly never would again. Not after all they'd been through. He  _was_  an outdoor cat pretending to be an inside cat, and he couldn't pretend anymore.

He wasn't like Rick, or Carol, or Carl, who could just blend back so easily like the god damned apocalypse had never just happened. Couldn't pretend to forget the horrors they'd faced. Forget  _her_ , and her bright naïve eyes as she smiled at him from across that shadowy porch, eyes shimmering like the moonshine in the jars around them. Couldn't forget losing her. Because those were all a part of who he was now, of what he'd grown to become, even in all this.

 _That's what you were, that's what you are–_ was what Deanna had said to Rick when appointing him sheriff of the safe zone. When she gave him the authority he'd had before the turn, what the others had all gained upon arriving at Alexandria.

A second chance at the life they  _used_  to have.

The chance to be who they were before.

But Daryl didn't want to be who he was before. Didn't want to be that sorry, whipped, asshole who followed his brother around like a lost puppy with no purpose. Didn't want to be  _nobody_ again. Because now (as crazy as it sounded), because of the apocalypse... He'd found something that made him  _someone_. A purpose. A whole  _lot_ of purposes actually. He'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted because of the end of the world. Friends... Family... A sense of self worth...

And  _Beth_ , he thought as he reached behind her back and unfastened the clasp of her bra to let it fall to their feet, and leaned down to suckle one of the beady pink buds. He'd gotten Beth. And the person he was before the turn certainly wouldn't have ever gotten her. Would probably never have  _spoken_ to her, or even noticed her really. It was because of the apocalypse that he'd had a reason to notice her, and she'd had a reason to notice him.

But Daryl didn't dwell on scenarios where he and Beth never would have met... Because they  _had_ met. That was real. Not fantasy. Not a dream.

 _She_ was real, and he'd never let her fade away into oblivion again.

"Daryl...!" she gasped his name as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, teeth occasionally grazing the perked peak and making her jolt. "Ah... Daryl,"

 _Stay who you are, not who you were,_ she'd said. Be who you want to be. Don't let the past define you.

He wasn't nobody. Wasn't  _nothing_... Not anymore.

_You got away from it._

"I did," he whispered against her perky mound, and if she heard it she didn't pass comment. Just kept on moaning and writhing against him, pushing his head further into her chest and urging him on. Because she knew he needed it.

She always knew.

He could smell her arousal thick and heavy in the air, and he let the hand that wasn't holding her breast travel down and rub a finger along the—as he'd predicted—marvellously soaked cotton of her panties. She let out a whimper when he pushed down on her clit with his thumb, rubbing the fabric across her throbbing bud and still rubbing her nipples with his fingers and tongue. He kept her pressed tightly between his strong frame and the wall, with little space to move as he worked on her sensitive spots, her wriggling in rapture and bucking her hips into his hand, desperate for release of some kind.

"No..." his tone was quiet, but firm. A warning actually. A warning to behave... Or else.

Or else  _what_? Daryl wasn't sure, but Beth's choked moans and desperate shifting made him increase the pressure he had on her clit, and she cried out louder this time.

He wasn't sure where this side of him was coming from, but Beth didn't seem to be complaining about it. She was  _glorifying_ it honestly, fingers lost in his hair and pressing down hard, dragging blunt nails against his scalp.

He supposed it was fair, since she had been so dominant last time.

 _Last time._ It still felt weird to think that he had done this with her more than once. Made her moan and gasp and cry out his name in rapture. He never would've imagined it happening if someone had told him long ago. Probably would've just laughed, or told them to fuck off. But now... Daryl couldn't imagine doing anything else than bringing Beth Greene to orgasm.

" _Daryl_!" she cried, sobbed,  _begged_. "Please, I-"

"I said... No." he cut her off, and she whimpered, hips rocking as he rubbed his thumb along her cotton-covered pussy.

 _No_.

His mouth trailed up from her breast and he grazed his teeth along the column of her neck, raw and exposed to him. He stuck out his tongue and brushed it along the sweat-ridden flesh, it's salty tang sharp on his tastes.

"Don't you come 'till I say," he breathed against her neck, and Beth shuddered against the wall, hands de-tangling from in his hair and pressing flat on the wall at her sides.  _You listen to_ me  _now._

"Mmhmm," she moaned shakily, and he rubbed circles over the fabric of her panties.

He smiled against her neck, teeth gracing the skin, and hummed in delight. "Good." he purred, and went back to licking the salted skin.

This time,  _he_ was the wolf. And she was the helpless little fawn that had wandered into his territory. Small, delicate, vulnerable. He was going to devour her alive, and no amount of screaming or whining was going to stop that. He was going to show her the hurt he felt.  _Make_ her feel it. Make her see that he needed her to trust him. That it was okay.

Because she'd taught him it was okay to do just that. To get too close.

Daryl moved the hand that wasn't pressing down on her sensitive spot, and slid her panties down her thighs, painfully slowly. His touch was far from gentle though. This sudden surge of odd power had given him a rough edge, and this time it was completely him in charge. He controlled every gasp, every sharp intake of air, and every jolt. It was feral. Fucking  _scary_ even... But Beth was loving it.

So was he.

With her lower parts now exposed, she arched into his hand and pushed her head back against the hard wall behind her when he swiped a finger along her dripping slit. The sounds she was making could easily be mistaken for howling, and it was music to Daryl's ears.  _Howl girl, howl all you want._

He knew now, that it wasn't just about her whenever they did this. It could he for him too, even if he wasn't the one on the receiving end. Because he could get off on the knowledge that it was  _him_ she was coming undone because of. That it was he she was rolling her hips against and panting for. And that told him the things he felt with her weren't one-sided at all.

Ever so slowly, fortuitously so, he dipped a finger into her tight opening, making her writhe in sheer ecstasy, and leisurely slid it in further. The moan he got for that was beautiful, and he couldn't stop the groan that escaped his own lips at the sound of it. Taking pleasure from pleasure. He pushed his finger deeper into her warmth, and felt her inner walls constricting around him. Tightening, squeezing, drinking. It would seem the fawn couldn't get enough of the big bad wolf's big bad fingers. Dirty fawn.

Not so innocent after all.

So he added another. Just as painfully slow, pressing the digit in with the other and pumping in and out. He pressed his thumb down on her clit during this, and he thought she actually would cry then with the sound she made at the action.

" _Please_...!" she choked, teeth clenched and nails scraping down the rotten wood.

"Please  _what_?" he teased, lips trailing along her jaw, planting hard, wet kisses there. "What d'ya want from me, girl?"

"I want..."

 _I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about my sexual satisfaction and let me come!_ he imagined her screaming, similar wordplay to what she'd used that day they'd burned down the shack. And with it, their pain–now a shared pain. A pain that had been passed completely onto him when she'd 'died', and he'd nearly died too from the doubled weight on his shoulders.

But then she came back. And the only pain now was the separation and whatever pain they decided to cause one another through means of intercause. A separation that unlike her apparent death... Could be fixed.

This was a good pain, low and burning deep in the pit of both their stomachs. A deep wanton desire that sent Daryl's blood pumping wildly through his veins, and pulsing into his cock so that it strained even harder against his bottoms. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep this dominant alpha male act up, and not act like what he really wanted to do was just rip her clothes from her and pound into her.

But  _she_  was the alpha. The one in control. The one in power. He would gladly drop to his knees and do anything she asked, because he was at her mercy. She may be allowing him this momentary feeling of command, but in reality it was she who ruled. She who howled her songs out into the night, and everything for miles around stopped to listen to the haunting melodies that fell from her jaws.

Whilst she may be that, he could still be this, for now at least. Because she'd taught him he could be whatever he wanted to be. And he  _wanted_  to be this.

"... _Please_..." she whispered again, voice hoarse. And Daryl knew he could deny her no longer. "...Let me..."

"Do it." he growled lowly, "Let it out... Come for me, Beth."

And she did. Right all over his fingers, coating them in her sticky juices and shuddering whilst letting out a shaky sigh of release. She slumped against the wall, hands panning out and scraping along the broken wood panels, and her hair fell around her face in bundles of sweat and grime. Daryl smeared her liquids along her slit, drawing more sharp gasps, before removing his hand entirely and bringing it up to his lips to take a finger into his mouth.

Beth watched as he sucked her juices from his finger, cheeks flushed and shining with sweat. Daryl cleaned his fingers and felt her body sag with exhaustion, and they both sunk to the floor, with her still pressed between him and the wall. His head fell and rested on the shallow valley between her breasts, and his breaths came out as deep puffs of hot air onto her clammy flesh. Beth's hands came up and rested on his bare forearms, and traced a line of dust and sweat from his biceps up to his shoulders. Her chin fell and rested on his head, and he could feel her breath soft and cooling on his oily scalp.

She laughed breathily onto the top of his head, and he swore he could feel her smiling. "That's got me buzzing now." And he chuckled.

Buzz.


	9. Open her eyes like she opened yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When your wolf is tamed, she will look up at you with her glowing amber eyes and lower her muzzle in submission to you. But Beth isn't that wolf. She doesn't submit. That doesn't mean she still can't ask for help though, because you don't have to surrender to someone to do just that.

"Okay so listen up. I think we got us a half decent plan, which jus' might work."

Beth's expression fell and she flashed him what looked to be a scowl. She opened her mouth in protest, but stopped when he gave her a hard stare that warned her not to argue. So she slumped her shoulders and grimaced at him properly this time, expression resembling that of a spoiled child.

Daryl ignored it.

"I know ya don't like it," he said, "But I ain't jus' gonna sit here an' do nothin', whilst you're out riskin' havin' yer throat slit every single day. Ya want me to stay out'a it. Ain't gonna happen."

"I've already said there's nothing you can do."

"An' I've already said you're wrong."

She blinked. So did he.

He'd said it, this time. Out loud. Wrong. He'd said she was wrong.

Yeah, because she  _was_ , but that wasn't what had shocked him. It was the fact that he'd actually come out and  _said_  it. So naturally as well. Like defying her was a breeze, simple as can be.

Only it wasn't. Going against Beth was the hardest thing Daryl could possibly do, well it was the first time he'd actually done it really. Everything she said and did before always seemed so right, so moral, that he just never thought twice about it. She was Beth Greene, always right, always compassionate, and always  _good_. And he never doubted that. He'd have followed her down into the pits of hell by pointing a trigger at his own temple, and pulling it, if only to be with her. He would do anything,  _be_  anything for her. It just wasn't questioned.

But now, right here... Daryl  _was_  questioning that. That lone belief and moral he'd followed every second after she'd been driven away in that car. Since the last fleeting image he had of her turning and making a run for the funeral home window, screaming:  _I'm not gonna leave you._

Ironic that that was the last thing she might have ever said to him if that bullet in the hospital hallway had killed her.

 _I won't leave you. Not ever._ And she never did. Not really.

But all that aside, the point was that Daryl Dixon had spent every day since then living by the choices Beth Greene would make. What she would do, what she would say. She influenced his every action, his every word. And he didn't think twice. And now...

_You're wrong._

That ideology of hers he'd lived by suddenly seemed to melt away. Into a fool's dream, a mindless belief system chased by a man so captivated by his friend, companion, partner...  _Lover_. So captivated that her word was like the text of a religion. Unquestionable; honest; noble. And now it  _was_  questionable.

Because Beth wasn't the only one who had grown in their time apart. Wasn't the only one who'd thought back on the trance they fell into in the midst of their candlelit trash brunch, and realised the transcendent layer of their intimacy. The  _second_  the close friendship they shared changed into something else. Something deeper. Something that could only be conveyed with a long, lingering look.

And Daryl had known after that that everything Beth said didn't have to be a prophecy or the word of God. Because at the end of it all, Beth Greene boiled down to being exactly the same as him. Messy, complicated, contradictory, hypocritical... Filled with so much depth and intensity.

So  _human_.

And that made it okay for her to be not always right.

"You're wrong... Beth." he repeated softly, "This time... You're  _not_  right _._ You're _wrong."_

Wrong. Oh  _so_  wrong. So incredibly wrong. And fucking  _stupid_.

"I get what ya said about worryin' for our safety and all that shit, but what ya  _don't_  get... Is that's what we've all been doing anyway. All this time, right from t'start."

_You're my brother._

_These're good people._

_Back where I belong._

"We've all been stickin' our necks out for each other for nearly years now. Nobody even thinks about it no more, we jus'  _do_  it. The farm... The prison... The Governor... We've done dumb an' reckless stuff, risked everythin', just to save each other... 'Cause that's what we do."

_They're screwing with the wrong people._

"We're fuckin' crazy. Murderers, arsonists,  _monsters.._. We all got demons inside of us, an' we're all to blame for what they do when we let 'em out. You know that. But the point is that we're family. And family don't give up on each other. So I ain't givin' up on  _you_."

_These people—they're my family._

He clasped her hand.

"An' don't say this is different from all that other stuff... 'Cause it  _ain't_."

_It just ain't us, man._

_It has to be sometimes. If we wanna live. If we wanna keep each other safe._

"...I'm not gonna let you die again."

Beth's eyes were big and glassy as she stared at him, her hand small in his. They glistened their bright blue, all ferocity and sinister blaze melting away to reveal the girl from long ago, who'd yelled in his face and insisted she needed a drink.

And he'd given her one.

Then he'd yelled in  _her_  face and essentially said he needed someone there with him. To hold him up when he broke down and fell, to stick the pieces back together that shattered into dust.

And she'd given him  _that_.

 _Daryl_. She mouthed his name, hand clasping in his and intertwining their fingers.  _Daryl_.

And she kissed him. Soft and sweet; chaste. And broke away with emotion-filled eyes. Then she threw her arms around his neck.  _Joyously_ , he noticed with the wide smile on her lips and blissful flush to her cheeks. And she giggled.

 _Beth_. Sweet, silly, happy, little Beth. The girl he'd passed as a stranger for months, ignored, broken, and reassembled, who  _shone_  in his vision; then planted a crossbow in her hands, and forced her to want to fight. Want to  _live_. Dug way down into the depths of her soul and found the creature within. But unlike him, it wasn't a demon, or a monster. It was something else entirely. Something warm, and light.

Something Beth.

"Tell me what you have to say," she whispered finally against his neck, "Tell me your plan."

 _Beth_.

.

.

"So wait, wait, wait." Beth waved her hands, "Lemme get this straight. Your plan is for me to somehow 'accidentally' set the prisoners/my friends free, for you all to take to Alexandria... And hope that the Wolves don't notice my shady behaviour or catch me in the act?"

"…Basically."

"Is that really gonna  _work_?"

"It will if you make it work."

Her brows furrowed together in puzzlement. Daryl went on.

"If ya do what you've been tellin'  _me_  to do all this time, the plan'll work."

"And what's that?"

"...Try."

_I'm tryin'._

_I am trying._

"Ya gotta  _try_. Take the chance. You're worried, I get it. But it ain't gonna stop us. Ain't gonna stop  _me_... I'm not gonna run, Beth. Least not in the direction away from you."

 _I'm not gonna leave you._ Not gonna stash you in the trunk of some car and run for the hills, whilst you're left to die by the jaws of the undead.

Never again.

He reached out and took her hand, pressing it flat against his bare chest... Right above the spot where his heart beat from within its cage of flesh and bone. Of black, and blood, that monsters bathed in. Monsters that screamed and sung in the blackness of the abyss, chanting four words like an entreaty...

"Not gonna leave you." he whispered.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, glimmering like starlight, packed to the core with wonder and dreams. Dreams he shared. Of families, and games, and laughter, and  _life_. All of which just might be possible now… Because of Alexandria. That makeshift haven of false security and the rebuilding of lives. People living behind shutters, baking in their homes, and playing in their yards. Unexposed to the outside world... Undeserving of the luxury they took for granted that was the safe zone.

But despite that, there was still nothing more Daryl wanted than to lead Beth in through those huge gates again, under less hostile circumstances this time. Lead her into the chance to have those family picnics she wanted, and to see Glenn and Maggie have that baby.

He realised now that he wanted that too. More than anything. More than being safe. Because safety was good and all, with no deaths and anguish. But it was just that. Just safety. He'd been so focused on keeping the group safe and alive, that he'd forgotten what it was like to actually  _be_  alive. Or maybe he'd never known in the first place, with the rocky road on which he lived with Merle; drifting, never sailing. Perhaps he'd never actually understood those things people talked about, the things they missed about before the world had stopped spinning. Simple, seemingly boring, useless things. Like riding horses, and whispering secrets with siblings, and eating elaborate family dinners with handfuls of shiny silverware. All things Beth and the rest of the Greenes had done without a thought. Things Rick, Carol, Michonne, and everyone else had probably done too.

Everyone except Daryl.

He'd always been so repulsed by his feelings for Beth because of her age when compared to his. Because of how his maturity and experience of living upped her own. But the truth was... He'd barely lived at all compared to her.

"...I know," she replied, and Daryl found that answer wasn't surprising in the least. "I know you won't abandon me. Not on purpose."

She always knew.  _Always_. He wondered just  _how_  much she knew sometimes.

She shook her head, and her smile was sad and soft. "And you're right." she said, "We've all been running... Fighting... Trying... And what for? Why've we been doing all of that for so long? Tell me that."

"I..."

"It's like you said. Because we're a family, Daryl... And families stand together and fight, they trust each other. I know you trust me. You've proved that time and time again. But d'you know how I  _really_  know that you trust me?"

"How?"

"Because I trust you too."

_Trust me._

"...Does that mean y'll do it? Follow the plan, I mean..."

She titled her head and did that wide-eyed look, orbs all big and blue, fawn-like again. All young and  _Beth_. And she said with a jovial glint in those eyes...

"Only an idiot would say no."

He smirked. Figures she'd say something like that. But that didn't matter. She was going to help. She wasn't being stubborn and all lone-wolfy... She trusted him.

"Good to hear you're not an idiot then." he said with a grin, one she returned at the statement.

"So what do I do? Like... Proper, detailed plan-wise? What's the first wave of war?"

The first of many.

.

.

Alexandria's gates seemed even taller than usual, and Daryl had started to notice things about the huge metal door that he hadn't before. Like he'd just opened his eyes, and begun to see the world properly for the first time.

Everything the light hit seemed a little bit brighter, and a little bit better. It was weird; ethereal; fucking cliché if he was honest. But it was good. It was  _all_  good.

The gate opened to reveal a more than eager Maggie standing waiting for him. Glenn was beside her, Rick was walking forward from behind, and Abraham was there this time as well.

Funny how the man somehow thought he had the right to look him in the eye like everything was sunny and dandy. Like the prick hadn't pressed a gun to the seemingly lifeless girl in Daryl's arms and threatened to pull it, so she wouldn't turn.

His intentions had been good, but Daryl didn't care about that. The main thing had been that the man thought he had any right to hold Beth's life in his hands, and crush it. He had  _no_  right.

Perhaps no one had the right to do that.

Not even him when he'd pointed the gun at Dale's forehead because Andrea couldn't, and pulled the trigger. He sometimes wondered if Andrea had ever regretted not doing what he had. If she ever looked at him and regarded him in the light of a murderer. A slaughterer of an innocent man, though he directly hadn't been the sole purpose of the old man's demise. He sure as hell had blamed Rick for cuffing Merle to a rooftop in Atlanta for a solid few weeks.

Speaking of Rick.

"Everything go ok?" the man asked, approaching Daryl and planting a stable hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah." he said with a nod.

Deanna came walking down from her house then, arms folded as usual and her brow quirked up in the famous Deanna brow raise. Daryl turned to her, and met her expression head-on.

"She said she'd do it." he said firmly, "She's wit' us."

The sombre woman nodded. "Good."

Maggie looked more than slightly over the moon at hearing the news, and flashed Glenn an eclectic smile. She then walked closer to Daryl and directed that smile at  _him_. He squirmed on the spot and shifted his gaze to his mud-flaked boots.

_Enough with the creepy smiles._

"She have anything else to say?" Deanna asked probingly, not particularly offensive in any way, but Daryl still took it that way.

"Yeah, actually." he shot back.

"Then do share."

Several citizens of the safe zone had gathered and were staring at him like they always did. Like he was something from the outside—which he was—but like he was something different to people like Maggie or Rosita. Like they thought he was an animal. Dangerous.

…They didn't think wrong.

"This place have a council set up yet?" he asked.

People's eyes widened in surprise at that, Rick's included, and Deanna watched him carefully. "Not officially no..." she replied, "Myself and the rest of the Monroe family make most of the decisions. Why do you ask, Mr Dixon?"

Daryl looked at Rick. He nodded once the look was understood.

Rick turned to Deanna. "We should make one." he said. "Get things in order. Make sure your...  _rules_ , are reasonable. Fair. Good idea, right?"

"I'm not sure that's completely necessary, Rick–"

Maggie cut in, "No he's right. Forgive the interruption, but he is. Ya need help in making the decisions in this place, and that isn't meant in an invasive way. One person or family can't hold things together on their own… Believe me... My family tried it once too. An' it didn't go down so well."

Flames of the burning barn still burned fresh in Maggie's head, it seemed. The cries of her loved ones echoing throughout the night the herd came and trampled the farm, forcing them out like rats. The system Hershel had created in the hopes of keeping his family safe, land burned to a cinder, and a part of his kin along with it. Because the Greenes had offered their sanctuary to the Atlanta group, only not with full trust. The decisions were not down to the newcomers, only those of the family.

Maggie was right. Look where that had gotten them.

Shawn, Annette, Arnold, Otis, Jimmy, Patricia, Hershel...  _Beth_ —nearly every member of that family had succumbed to the ashes that their farm lay in. All besides Maggie, and Beth as well, as they'd recently learned. The only remaining survivors of a system that had been doomed to fail.

And Deanna's system would undergo the same failure if she didn't listen to them. If she didn't  _trust_  them.

The old woman regarded Maggie carefully, eyes narrow and calculating. Her brow then lifted into its usual quirk, and she turned her attention to Rick...

And gave him a nod.

"We can sort something out later, but right now we've got bigger issues at hand. Inside, all of you. I'm interested in hearing what Beth Greene had to say to Mr Dixon."

Daryl followed the others behind Deanna, desperately wishing she would stop calling him that.

He sure as hell wasn't  _her_  chaperone.

.

.

Daryl chewed the skin around the nail of his thumb whilst sitting around in Deanna's living room, discussing the plan and Beth's part in it. He told them how she'd agreed to do it, and how she'd even given him some inside info on the enemy, even though it would probably get her killed if they found out she'd gone and blabbed.

"Couple dozen of 'em, camped out in some place south o' here. They travel in pairs usually, but sometimes they team up an' form bigger groups." he repeated Beth's words to the group, "Could be useful f'it comes down to clearin' 'em out with violence."

"It won't come to that," Deanna warned.

"You can't guarantee that it won't." Rick countered.

"These are  _people_. I understand and appreciate that they've done diabolical things, but in case you've forgotten, so have all of  _you_. Maybe if you'd just be willing to talk to them, they might be willing to  _listen_."

"We've seen people like this before. They can't be reasoned with. They're too far gone."

_We can all change._

_Liar._

Some people it turned out, were too far gone, and didn't want to come back. You had to  _want_  to come back, for you to stand a chance. Had to fight for it;  _believe_  in it. And these Wolves didn't seem to want to crawl out of their den and back out into society.

"Then why the complicated and clever plan that conveniently avoids mindless killing, if you intend to slaughter them all anyway? Why not just march in and do that very thing now?" she asked.

Michonne sat up from her slumped position, and gave Rick a look. A long, lingering look, that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl or several others in the room. A look that Daryl recognised as one that only could have developed over time in the wilderness, fending off nature and surviving with the only companion(s) you had left.

"Because  _we_  aren't too far gone." she said firmly, "Still not yet."

Deanna stared at Michonne for a while, the woman's trust in the samurai apparent with her overall actions and behaviour towards her. Michonne, like Maggie, was one of the few that Deanna actually trusted from their group.

Michonne turned to look at Daryl. "So what's her first move, Dixon?" she asked.

Daryl didn't mind  _Michonne_  calling him that, as long as she didn't add a ' _Mr'_  on the front of it.

"She's startin' slow at first. Discrete. Only getting a couple or one out first, see if they notice what she's up to. More'll follow after another time if it goes well. We're s'posed to wait at the shack I met 'er to transport whoever gets out back here."

"And do we have any idea  _who_  she's getting out first?" asked Glenn.

Oh yes. The prize prisoner. The one the Wolves were so focused on.

With him gone, they wouldn't hardly focus on the other members they held captive. The one who'd stood at the back behind a cluster of police officers in that cursed hallway, timid and mousy. Afraid. The one who'd wiped the blood from her head and plugged up the hole, saving her life. Daryl cleared his throat.

"...The Doctor from t'hospital."

.

.

Stargazing had never been very high up on Daryl's list of daily activities, but somehow that night, he found himself doing just that, as he waited for first light. The rising of the sun to mark when he and some others would venture out to the shack and wait for a fleeing Dr Edwards to stumble into them, to lead home.

Home. He'd called this place home. It didn't feel like it, but he supposed... If Beth could finally be allowed to live here, with them... It might start to feel a little bit like that. When they could have their family picnics, and spaghetti Tuesdays, and singing and dancing along to music. Glenn and Maggie could have a baby, and Judith would have someone closer to her age to play with, Beth would be an aunt... And things would be good.

It was a fool's dream. A silly, makeshift fantasy, perhaps cursed to never be. But it was something to fight for. And that's what they'd been striving for all along. A chance to dream again, and live out that dream whilst doing all those silly things everyone other than Daryl had taken for granted. Things like squabbling over a favourite chair, or choosing what shirt to wear in a morning. Meaningless things really, that yet still held so much meaning as well. Things that it meant to be alive. Still breathing.

"You're always out here on the porch."

He didn't have to turn to know it was Maggie. She stood beside him on the top porch step, and leaned against the white painted wood, painfully immaculate in the dimness of dusk.

Not particularly bothered by the eldest Greene sister's decision to join him out here, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a cigarette. He lit it and inhaled a breath of smoke, trying not to think about how the ash cloud had puffed from Beth's lips after she'd sucked it from him so deliciously.

"You're literally always out here." she repeated, "Any specific reason for that?"

He shrugged. "Jus' like it." he mumbled, a breath of hazy grey air accompanying his half-assed statement.

"It ain't got nothing to do with my sister then?"

He almost choked on the smoke.

She laughed at his sudden coughing fit and sat down beside him on the step. "Relax. She told me about the time ya both sat out on a porch like this, when it was just the two of you. Back when she came through these gates, before all this madness with those damn Wolves started."

"Why'd she tell you  _that_?" he asked, baffled.

Maggie brought her knees up to her chest and stared up at the nightly sky.

"I don't know," she admitted, "We were talkin' in my room the night she came back, just the two of us. You were sat out here on the porch at the time, an' I made a joke about how you were like a dog sent out. She got all giggly and then started talkin' about how it reminded her of how you both sat out there together...  _Drinkin'_."

Shit.

He fidgeted. Maggie raised an eyebrow, similarly to Deanna's trademark brow raise, and Daryl avoided her stare. She knew about the moonshine, meaning she probably knew about a few other things too. Thankfully she couldn't know anything  _sexually_  intimate, since he and Beth hadn't reached that point in their relationship intimacy yet. But still... What else did she know?

"She wanted a drink..." he shrugged.

"I bet she did."

"…I didn't mean..."

"Look, Daryl. I don't know what you think it is I think of whatever's goin' on between you and Bethy… But I don't think it's somethin' I should be worried about."

Daryl blinked.

"It's obvious you care about her a whole lot," she went on, "Anybody can see that. But I'm just tryin' to figure out the exact nature of what's goin' on between the two of you, with all the emotional, longing glances I see you guys give each other."

"I don't know what yer talkin' about."

"Oh come on. Don't give me that. I thought it was just because you two had spent so much time together after we lost the prison, or 'cause you felt guilty for what happened to her. Or, what we  _thought_  happened to her. But as time moved on, an'  _I_  started to move on... You didn't."

_You have to let yourself feel it._

"It's like... Yeah, you probably felt guilty over what happened, and she was your friend so naturally you'd be pretty miserable. She was our family… But still, it was different with you. Like the pain, wasn't exactly  _worse_  than mine, but it was more deep. More raw. Like it couldn't heal, an' was  _screamin'_  to be felt."

It couldn't heal until he embraced the full agony and let himself truly feel it, like Carol said. He should have. Let himself feel, that is. Should've opened his walls to the wave of woe and torment. Basked in the flood of it all, like the spray of hot blood that had spilled onto him with the firing of the bullet, coating him in the inevitability of her fate. Smeared the dark red on his hands across his entire body. Bathed in it from head to toe like he deserved. Choked on it like the tears he'd shed, his tongue painted with salt and the angry tang of old copper.

But he'd been too weak to do that. Too afraid.

"Back when it was just me an' Beth," he said, twirling the cigarette around with his fingers. "She told me somethin'. She told me a lot'a things, but one thing stuck out to me t'most… After I realised how right she was about it."

"What'd she say?"

_You don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid!_

"She said... That I was afraid. An' I shot back sayin' that I wasn't afraid of anythin'. But then... Turns out a shot to her  _head_  was what it took for me to realise how wrong I was."

_You were like me._

"I lied to her that day; straight up lied to her face. 'Cause I was fuckin'  _scared_. An' she knew that. That was the worst part of it, her lookin' me straight in the eye an' just  _knowin'_ that what I was saying wasn't the truth."

She always just knew.

Maggie looked at him intently. "Then the thing that scared you most of all happened right in front of your eyes... She left."

_I'm not gonna leave you._

"She didn't." he debated, "She didn't leave."

Beth might have let herself get killed all over some stupid little boy who wanted to go home, but she hadn't  _left_  him. Not really.

She could never do that.

"She was always right there. Like a person always is when they go away for a while; sometimes forever. They're still there, y'know? Still..."

The way Maggie looked at him then made him want to run off down the street and out of the gates, far away from anyone who might ever look at him like that again. With warm, smiling eyes, that got underneath his skin. Eyes that said:  _I know._ And like her all-knowing little sister... Maggie did know.

"You're in love with her."

She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like it was the easiest explanation to the twisted and complicated web both Daryl and Beth had tangled themselves in. Like there was just that one word that could describe every strand and layer to whatever it was they shared.

Love. It was really that simple.

He  _loved_  her. Perhaps hadn't always, but for a while he had. The second he'd turned off his jackass attitude and hostile exterior towards her, and let himself properly look at her... He'd thought that maybe, she was someone he could grow to love. Or be taught how to. Someone who hiked beside him through forests and roads in the heart of Georgia, in the soaking noon heat; who sat alongside him by a burning campfire, tossing pages of her own personal notebook into the embers just to keep the two of them warm. Someone who looked at him from across a porch at night, with the moonlight gleaming in her vast doe eyes, and smiled at him. And made him think the bubbling feeling in his stomach might not be entirely the effects of the moonshine.

And it was right then that Daryl made the resolve decision that he didn't want to be alone anymore. Not ever again. But that didn't mean he just wanted to be with anyone so he wouldn't be on his own, like when he'd shamelessly tagged along with those ass-wipe 'Claimers'.

Daryl looked at Beth as she swore she wouldn't last out here, and  _ferociously_  wanted to prove her wrong. Wanted to take her by the hand and lead her away into the comfortable gloom of the woods, where they could make pathetic campgrounds, and eat mud snakes and squirrels by fires. Occasionally finding little places here and there to venture into for essentials; like white cardigans (of all impractical colours) for Beth to try on, low battery flashlights, and bags of money. All which held no use in this kind of world, but brought small flashes of underrated happiness.

Daryl would watch Beth try on any ridiculous coloured cardigan she could get her hands on, and be more careful when swinging a golf club around near a walker next time, to avoid staining that white and yellow happiness black and red. The only red in sight would be his blood burning for her, and he would get to his knees on the floor, and cry selfishly:  _I wanted more!_

Just the two of them. Alone and running, not daring looking back at the flames devouring the prison they'd once called home.

Forever.

_You wanna spend the rest of our lives staring into a fire and eating mud snakes?_

Yes.

Fucking  _yes_.

Daryl wanted nothing more than that. For them to spend the rest of their lives camped out in a funeral home, eating white trash brunches he'd laid out giddily, trying to convince one-eyed dogs to come in, and him lying in the casket while she ran her fingers along the piano keys and sung.

Daryl Dixon had thought he loved her when she'd done that.

Maybe he'd loved her even before that. But it didn't matter  _when_  exactly he'd started loving her, all that mattered was her being here now, and fighting for a future. A future together. Fighting was a whole lot easier when you had something to fight for. And Beth  _did_  have something to fight for; a whole lot of somethings actually. He knew she wanted this, wanted life, she only had to try hard enough to get it. Just a little harder.

Because they'd all been trying so hard for so long now, and they were so close.

Just one finishing push, and they could have the future they all wanted. The future they'd  _dreamed_  of. And Daryl didn't used to get that, but he did now. And he wanted it too.


	10. Into the wolf den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the plan under way, Daryl, Michonne and Glenn are sent to wait for a fleeing doctor, and mostly all is going well.. Until things go horribly wrong, which is what always happens.

Daryl was sent out to the forest shack with Michonne and Glenn, to wait for a fleeing Doctor to come to them. They stood with their weapons at the ready, and waited. Listening. Rick and Abraham were waiting about a mile back with several others from Alexandria, as backup to lead the escapee safely back to the safe zone, in case any Wolves came tailing him that they needed to take out. Which there undoubtedly would be. He only hoped that Beth had been successful in her part of the plan.

"We've been here for  _hours_ , man." Glenn complained, "How long does it take to run for your life away from blood-thirsty psychopaths?"

"Apparently a while if you've been holed up in a hospital for two years." Michonne responded dryly.

Daryl listened to their quiet snickering and strummed his fingers along the smooth handle of his bow. The portable radio stuffed in the belt of his trousers flared to life all of a sudden, and he pulled it out to hear Rick's muffled voice on the other end.

_"Anythin' yet?"_

"Nah, nothin'."

"Could'a gotten us killed if we were hiding from an enemy there, Rick," Michonne commented, "Contactin' us unexpectedly like that."

_"Sorry. S'just it's been a while, an' the guys we brought with us are gettin' a little... Doubtful."_

Daryl suppressed a growl.

Glenn answered, "Tell 'em to wait a little longer. Can't be much more waiting now."

Glenn was right. Surely it couldn't be much longer. They'd been here since  _dawn_ , and it was way into the afternoon now, heat of sweltering noon having long passed. This was taking an odd amount of time… Could it mean that something was wrong?

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and found it to be Michonne's. She stared at him, as if sensing his worried thoughts, and gave him a firm look.

"Don't you go giving up now, Dixon." she said, "It's because of you we're all out here doing something as crazy as this. Because you told us not to give up. To  _try_."

 _Try_.

He stared back with a thoughtful expression, and grunted. She smirked and smacked his shoulder.

Glenn smiled too. "Beth will save these people." he said, "Then we'll save  _her_. Even if she doesn't need us to."

_She saved herself._

"Yeah."

She did.

.

.

It was just starting to get dark when the trio heard rustling in the bushes and the clumsy sounds of twigs snapping nearby. The sky was lined with red and purple clouds, and soon it would be difficult to see. Daryl raised a finger to his lips to keep Glenn and Michonne quiet, and moved slowly towards the noises in the shrubbery, footfalls soft and careful. His grip was tight on his bow, a bolt already loaded, and he held it up in shooting stance, in case whoever the noises belonged to wasn't a friend...

The sharp sound of Michonne unsheathing her sword silenced the rustling sounds, and the trio froze.

Then, out of the bushes came who was unmistakably a very spooked looking Dr Edwards, hair and beard wildly untamed, and square glasses chipped. He no longer wore the long white lab coat he'd been wearing in the hospital hallway, now clad in a simple grey coat, and he held a long machete in his grasp. One he really didn't look capable of or comfortable handling. His expression changed to one that looked relatively less terrified, but not completely at ease as his gaze fell upon Daryl.

Daryl supposed seeing the man who'd mercilessly shot your leader in the head without even batting an eyelid again, even under the circumstances of the event, must be a little overwhelming.

"Hey," Michonne called slowly, in an attempt to appease the man's panic. "Ya don't have to worry, you're safe now. Just follow us quickly and we'll get you out'a here."

The Doctor nodded, the movement rapid and sheepish, just like his expression. His head kept jolting back to where he came from though, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"Someone following you?" Glenn asked.

"I... I don't know..." he stuttered finally, "No one saw me escape... But I heard things... Things I... But they  _will_  come after me eventually, once they know I'm gone. They will..."

"Don't worry about it, let's just get goin' before they come along and find us." Michonne said firmly, and turned in the direction of Alexandria.

Dr Edwards followed Michonne and Glenn with quick footsteps, but Daryl suddenly stopped still as death. Glenn noticed his action, and threw him a questioning look. But he got an answer without Daryl having to say anything, as the sounds of voices became audible from deep into the woods.  _Shit_. Edwards quaked on the spot, and Michonne raised her katana. Daryl's mind flashed back to what Beth had told him, and he listened carefully for the sound of footsteps that would hopefully inform him exactly how many pursuers there were.

_They travel in pairs usually, but sometimes they team up an' form bigger groups._

The voices and noises they were making suggested there could be no more than at least three, supporting that they were a pair and another. Just three, maybe more, maybe less.

They could take that many.

Daryl turned to Michonne and spoke in low whispers. "Take the Doc an' get to Rick. Glenn 'n' I can take these fuckers."

She nodded. "Be careful," she added quietly.

She disappeared into the trees along with the cowardly Doctor, and Daryl looked at Glenn. The fading light framed the young man's face, and he gave a resolute nod and gripped the holt of his gun. "Let's do this."

They split and jogged on opposite sides of the voices, effectively circling them in the hopes of cutting off both ends to attack. Then they moved inward, close enough so Daryl could make out several bulky figures standing beneath the pines. Wolves— _two_  of them, he noted, like Beth had said. One each for him and Glenn to take down. Like hunters taking the beasts.

Daryl crouched down behind some bushes, and pointed his bow at the larger looking of the two men. If he could get an immediate kill shot in this one, the other would be much easier to take out, with Glenn's help as well. Pressing his finger down slowly, he released the trigger and let a bolt sail cleanly through the air, over the bush and right into the top of the Wolf's head. The swish and spurt as the arrow pierced the man's brain was shrill, and he didn't even have time to register what was happening before he fell to the ground, dead.

The second Wolf gaped in visible shock, hand instinctively reaching for his own gun and pulling it out. His eyes scanned the trees, the jagged  _'W'_  carved on his forehead sharp in the dim twilight. His attention was focused in the direction the arrow had fired from, and he cautiously made his way over to where Daryl crouched behind the bushes. If he moved to reload, he would be heard and killed. So he just sat, waiting, fingers brushing the hilt of Beth's knife at his hip, and curling around the handle...

When the Wolf was about two metres away from Daryl's hiding place, the man stopped because of the sound behind him. Glenn wandered out from behind the trees, revolver out and pointed at the Wolf's head, and his expression sombre. The Wolf raised his gun to fire first, but Glenn was faster. The bullet soared through the air like a zip and tore through his abdomen, blood spurting out where the metal shell entered, but he didn't fall.

Daryl leapt out then, and whacked him hard over the head with his crossbow, which  _did_  make him fall. He fell to the ground with a crumple, landing in an awkward position that must have injured his head even more than Daryl hitting him.

"The  _fuck_  do you two pricks think you're  _doing_?"

Daryl and Glenn whipped their heads in the direction of the voice to see a bunch more men with scabby  _'W_ 's marked upon their foreheads, and guns held up.  _Shit shit shit_. The crossbow was still unloaded, and they were clearly outnumbered weapon-wise.  _Fuck!_

"You gonna get your heads blown to smithereens, or your body parts fed to our walkers." one of them taunted angrily.

 _Their_  walkers? What the hell did  _that_  mean? How could people have walkers?

"Then what're you waiting for?" Glenn had to go and ask, making Daryl want to punch him.

The one in front broke out into a malicious smile, and shadows defined his face with a frightening ferocity, similar to that of a creature's. One that flashed its blood-covered fangs and howled out into the night over the bodies of its kills.

"Absolutely nothin'!" he snarled, and pulled the trigger in their direction.

Daryl and Glenn ducked, the gunshot missing them only barely, and the sound echoing out through the gloomy forest. That was sure to get the dead moving. Sure to get a whole herd of them on their way to this very spot. Daryl spotted a large rock on the ground and picked it up and threw it, it hitting the Wolf on the left cheek hard. Whilst he reacted over that, Daryl and Glenn leapt back into the trees and took the opportunity to swiftly reload their weapons. One of the arrows from Daryl's quiver was still lodged in the dead Wolf's brain, so he was down by one.

He hated losing inventory. But it was better than having no lethality at all.

After recovering from the initial shock of having a fucking  _rock_  thrown at him, the Wolf practically growled and stormed over to where Daryl had retreated.

"Come on out, ya fuckin' pussies!" he called, whilst the others scoured the area for any signs of him or Glenn. "Too scared to take us face-on? Rather hide behind a pile o' trees an' fire at us from there? Go ahead! Ya won't win that way!"

Daryl mentally snorted.

_Watch us._

He clamped his foot down on the handle of the bow and pulled the bowstring back, slotting another one of the bolts in place and muffling the  _twang!_  it made once in place. He crept through the trees silently, treading soft over mossy earth and avoiding twigs or any fallen leaves. Every so often, he would pick up a stray rock and throw it in the opposite direction to where he was moving, sending the Wolves in a fluster of confusion and irritation.

He almost collided with Glenn straight-on whilst preoccupied with grinning, but stopped just before they could bash into each other. Glenn gave him a nod and gestured to the Wolf that had split off from the others ever so slightly, indicating a clear headshot. Daryl nodded in response.

Another quick  _swish_  of the trigger being released sent an arrow soaring through the air into the Wolf's right eye, and he fell to the ground in a crumple.

Three down, three to go.

The Wolf that had spoken tauntingly snarled angrily, and fired his gun in the direction where Daryl and Glenn crouched, the bullet shower of his two companions only just missing them. One Wolf pulled out a walkie-talkie similar to theirs, and spoke into it lowly. Daryl only hoped they weren't requesting backup... But of  _course_  they fucking were.

"Go get Rick an' Abraham," Daryl whispered gruffly to Glenn, voice low so they wouldn't be heard.

" _What_!?" Glenn hissed, "I'm not just gonna leave you here to deal with these guys!"

"If we don't get some backup b'fore they do, we're gonna be more outnumbered than we already are. We can take three, no problem. But can we take eight? Ten?  _Twenty_?"

"Yeah but if I go it'll be just you, against three."

"I done worse."

 _A whole cellar full of walkers_  to be precise, trapped in a corner after stupidly opening the door to a mini herd of them after hearing that damned dog barking. And he'd gotten out of that. What were three cocky bastards compared to that?

"Can't we just radio them?" Glenn asked, his rebukes getting frantic.

"Ya want 'em to hear or not? Thing's loud as  _fuck_  once it starts cracklin'. They're bound t'hear."

"Yeah, but..."

The Wolves were drawing closer to their hiding spot, guns at the ready, and Daryl gave Glenn a look. And Glenn sighed. He put his hand on the redneck's shoulder, and squeezed. Then Daryl wasted yet another arrow firing it at a tree across the way, it sticking in the bark and temporarily drawing the Wolves' attention, giving Glenn just enough time to slip away unnoticed.

Daryl crept along the bushes whilst the hubbub was still prime, and took a position several metres to the right.

A Wolf yanked the bolt out of the tree and held it smugly. "Gonna be runnin' low on ammo soon enough, man. With this here an' the one lodged in Andy's skull." He pulled that one out too and held them both up in the air. "How many ya got on ya now, eh?"

Daryl scowled and glanced down at the remaining two arrows in the quiver of the bow.

Two Wolves left. Two arrows.

One for each, providing he hit the target both times. A clean headshot, promising instant death... Only then he remembered that a headshot  _didn't_  always equal instant death. At least not with a certain bulletproof blonde he knew. But with a good shot, it would be fatal. Dawn's accidental trigger finger had been shittiest of the shit aim, and he had could do better than that.

Especially since  _these_  kills we're going to be intentional.

"Well? What's it gonna–"

One of the two remaining arrows fired through the air, shooting directly through the Wolf's open mouth and staying lodged in the back of his head. The green sails at the tip of the bolt looked like a forked tongue sticking out of his mouth. Like he was the devil. But if he was, he was a dead one, as the life slowly drained from his eyes and he slumped to the ground.

The remaining Wolf almost shook at the spectacle, and waved his gun around wildly, firing in random directions. Daryl mentally snickered at the brief display of panic the man was displaying, and took the opportunity to slip behind a tree and reload the crossbow. The bullets struck against the tree he was hiding behind, startling him with such a force that he dropped the last bolt and sent it scooting across the leaf covered turf.  _Fucking fuck!_  he growled inwardly as he ducked to avoid a shower of bullets from the Wolf's machine gun. The bolt had fallen somewhere at his feet, and lay buried beneath a blanket of muddy brown leaves. He put the bow down temporarily to dig around for the bolt, ears pricking at the sound of the Wolf drawing closer. He could just leap out and fight the man straight on, but the guy had a loaded  _machine gun_. He would be blown to smithereens, as they'd put it. If the Wolf wasn't so close he could try sneak away into the trees and attack from a different direction that wasn't predictable, but the fucker was too close now for him to even think about making a move like that. The missing bolt was his only chance, and it was suddenly invisible!

"I know yer there," the Wolf said ominously, voice eerily close and low. "'Can hear ya shiftin' about."

Daryl stilled. He stopped digging around in the leaves for his last remaining arrow and waited.

If the Wolf got close enough and faltered for a second, just a  _second_ , he might be able to thrust the blade of Beth's knife into his head. It was a lot smaller than his own hunting knife he'd been forced to leave that first Wolf ambush that day, but it would still be able to do the same job. It  _had_  already done the same job, for him and Beth when they'd both used it. He'd had another knife after losing his, but that one had somehow slipped away too.

Hand on the hilt of her knife, he slid up with his back still against the free slowly, sounds of the Wolf's footsteps drawing closer. Blood pumped in his ears and he heard the man's harsh breathing far too close, all rough and gravelly. And Daryl took the chance... A chance he really shouldn't have taken. Because the Wolf leapt at him as he emerged from behind the tree, and instead of blasting him to kingdom come, he whacked the barrel of his gun right across Daryl's head with a force so great he fell to his knees and slumped. His vision was hazy, and white spots were appearing at the edges. Another firm smack across the head with the gun before he could react sent him fully into the never-ending blackness that called.

And Daryl thought he saw stars in that moment. Huge twinkling balls of starlight, gleaming in the dark like pale blue eyes in a midnight shack. Hair so blonde it was almost white as moonlight, and a canine smile shining with much fiercer intensity than the beams of the night sky's ethereal glow, opening to swallow him whole.

He let the blackness engulf him.

.

.

The surroundings were unfamiliar when Daryl finally climbed back up from the dark abyss and into the light. He was on the floor of a dark room propped up against an earthed table. His wrists and ankles were bound, and the bindings fastened him to the table, meaning that he could hardly move more than a couple of centimetres away from it. The floor was bone cold, and everything was silent.

He struggled awkwardly, hands trying to work their way out of the tight rope, and body twisting in attempts to move more freely.

Weapons-wise, he was quite lacking. His crossbow was nowhere in sight—not that he had any usable ammo left for it anyway—and as much as that fact alone unsettled him, it was the empty knife sheath at his hip that alarmed him the most. It was gone. The knife.  _Her_  knife. The item that held so much sappy worth and sentiment to him that he probably shouldn't care so much about as he did. But he did care, because that particular item had been all he'd had in the long weeks after Beth had been gone. All that was left, for him to touch, and hold. Feel the weight of it in his palms and remember that this was what she'd used to survive. This was what she'd used to cut down anything that got in her way, and threatened hers or anyone close to hers life.

That mere knife was so much more than a mere knife to him at least. It was a symbol; an embodiment. Of what? Of her, and what she was.

What she  _still_  was.

His awkward hand struggles proved half successful when he managed to slip a couple of fingers out, and he silently thanked Merle for all those lessons in escaping cuffs and bindings. The bastard always had had a knack for getting his ass out of sticky situations like that, even after being tied to a roof in overrun Atlanta. Merle was good at stuff like that. And now thanks to him, Daryl was too.

His head pounded like a bell was ringing endlessly in his brain,  _chiming_  and  _chiming_ , over and over, until he felt like his head was going to split in two. No matter how far he managed to get himself out of the rope bindings, it wouldn't change the fact that he felt like absolute shit.

The sound of a lock unbolting caught Daryl's attention, and his head rose to the noise.

The door had been opened just a crack, and someone was peeking out from behind it. Someone with a big blue eye and fine blonde locks that came to the collarbone, and a messily stitched up gash above their right brow.

"…Beth?" he called experimentally.

She slipped out through the crack and quietly closed the door behind her. The streams of fading light shone through the cracks in the bordered up windows, and caught the wild strands of her hair. It fell in a feral heap at her shoulders, wrap of bandage still wound around her head and covering the spot where the bullet had flown right through. Light illuminated the plains of her face with a finer definition—her cheeks strong and lined with both light and shadow, scars jagged crisp on her bruised cheeks and forehead.

Daryl let out a shaky breath at the sight of her, but found himself wanting to smile all the same.

Apparently now finished just standing gawking at him, she blinked and scurried over to him and knelt before where he sat. Her eyes were huge, luminous... and glistening. She brought up her hands and planted them softly on his shoulders, and only then did he notice the plasters and band aids wrapped around her battered knuckles.

"What'd you...?" he stumbled over his words, head still pounding, but Beth stopped him.

"Shh," she shook her head, "Don't talk."

He winced at the sharpness of her tone, and she must've sensed his flinch because her expression softened and her lips parted. Her bandaged fingers squeezed his shoulders and she averted her eyes from his heated gaze. Her tone was gentler when she spoke again; kind. Laced with an earnest tenderness that warmed Daryl to the centre.

"You're hurt worse… This wasn't a part of the plan. They hurt you. They hurt you and I didn't..."

Her hands moved up to cup his face, and she stroked the bristly skin with her thumbs.

He leaned into her touch, and ghosted his lips across the palm of one hand. Her lips trembled and thick drops of wetness built in her eyes, so much so they threatened to spill down her cheeks like heavy rainfall.

"I'm  _sorry_." she gasped, and he pushed his head forward so his forehead it was pressed flat against hers. The scarred cut above her brow, and the fabric of the bandage covering that almost fatal scar both soft and rough against his flesh. His hands were still tied, but if they weren't he would've reached out and planted them on her hips, rubbing soothing circles along the warm flesh beneath her shirt. Not sexual, just  _intimate_. A need for closeness that could ease any feeling of anxiety and despair. Something Daryl had never known could come from something as simple yet intimidating as human touch.

"We got your Doctor." he breathed against her face.

Her expression lightened and the sides of her mouth quirked up in an ever so slight smile.

"You did?"

"Yeah. Guy came scurryin' through the trees like a lost rabbit. He's with Michonne now. He's safe."

She smiled properly then and let off a sound that seemed to be a laugh. A low throaty chuckle of joy, of relief over something she'd been worried to death over.

"Thank you," she said with warmth flickering in her eyes. "Daryl.  _Thank_  you."

Beth's smile could never be creepy or make him feel uncomfortable. In fact it often had a bad habit of making him return the gesture.

"'Was all because o' you," he reminded, "You got 'im out, we just did our part of the plan."

"...But you  _made_  the plan. Thank you so-"

"Stop thankin' me! I already told ya I'd do it 'cause it was  _you_. Ya don't  _need_  to thank me. I'd'a done it anyway, even without your permission... I'd have saved you this time."

Tears brimming at the edges of her eyes, she leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek... But was stopped by the door creaking open.

She shot back from him in an instant, hands removing themselves from his cheeks and her now kneeling no more than half a metre away from him. Her expression also held that of steel and ferocity, and Daryl wanted to shudder.

A sheep in wolf's clothing.

A man stepped into the room and regarded her sitting there on the floor in front of the prisoner. Darn, was he really a  _prisoner_? How petty. And  _embarrassing_. Merle would be laughing his ass off at him right now if he could see him. Say he deserved it for being a whipped portion of shit tailing one piece of ass for millions of miles.

The Wolf's face was grim, rugged, and the  _'W'_  on his forehead was red and infected. "What'cha doin' in 'ere, girly?" he addressed Beth, tone dripping with taunt at the last part.

Daryl wanted to rip the guy's tongue out, but he was still quite stuck in place.

"Seeing if I can get anything out of him." she replied harshly.

Even her tone was darker, lower, and sent a chill down Daryl's spine.

"Useful things," she went on, "That you guys didn't think about whilst you were busy beatin' the crap out of him to think about."

Expecting a glare at her rude words, Daryl was quite surprised to see a flash of  _admiration_ shoot through the Wolf's eyes at her response, and he smirked.

"And how's that going?"

"Fine. Before you stormed in here and interrupted me."

"Just thought you'd want to know that one o' yer little friends got out earlier. The Doc actually... Kinda unfortunate, don't ya think…? An'  _lucky_..."

"…Well he's only one man, trying to get away from how many of us? Twenty? Thirty? And you still haven't been able to catch him yet?"

Daryl winced at the:  _us_. Of Beth grouping herself together with these sick bastards.

It was all part of the act of tricking them, he reminded himself. Just an elaborate disguise.  _A sheep in wolf's clothing._

"Guess ya didn't catch the news about that either then?" the Wolf asked.

"About what?"

"We sent out Andy an' some others to fetch the guy back. They're dead now. Thanks to this sonofabitch here an' his buddies."

He glared at Daryl.

"We spotted some more of the fuckers from behind the walls in the woods too." he said, "Whole bunch of 'em, like an infestation. I'm bettin' they axed our guy's stomachs then ran off... I wouldn't be surprised if the Doc ended up runnin' into 'em either..."

Michonne and Glenn. Rick and Abraham. They'd been seen. Were they okay? Daryl liked to think they'd be able to put up a good fight and get back to basecamp, which they would. No one stood a chance against  _them_.

Beth's eyes were narrow slits when she took them off him and directed them at the Wolf. "Well if he did, he's out'a reach now behind those walls." she said.

"Yeah. Until we fuck that place up so hard it comes crashin' to the ground."

The Wolf's gaze fell upon Daryl again, and he stalked closer to him. He stared Daryl out closely, mouth curved upward in an eerie and menacing smile. Daryl held in the spit in his mouth.

"So what're we gonna do with this pussyfoot here?" he asked.

Beth's expression grimaced.

"Obviously we gon' kill him as a warning for them Alexandria loons. But how d'we wanna execute the deed? What'd you think, Bethy?"

She didn't answer. Just stared at Daryl, long and hard. Like she was trying to tell him something with those lustrous, expressive eyes of hers. Something other than what she then said…

"When the time is right… …We kill him."

Normally Daryl would have winced at that kind of reply, but as he stared at Beth, her eyes dark and solemn. He realised that the statement wasn't exactly directed at  _him_.

So he gave her a tiny nod that went unnoticed by the Wolf, and her lip quirked.

_When the time was right._


	11. I'm asking you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farmers brand their livestock, and that's what they did to her. Marked, branded her, and stamped a label on her forehead for all the world to read. And labels reveal an item's true value; it's true colours. Or, these asshole Wolves turn out to be even bigger assholes than they already were.

They knew. They knew it was Beth who'd let Dr Edwards out.

Daryl really didn't know how the fuck they did, but they fucking  _knew_. Whether it was an accidental slip of her tongue, despite how careful she'd been already, or if it was her reluctance to hurt him that had given it away, Daryl didn't know. But somehow… They knew.

She came to him that next day, and the sight of her made him want to rip out of his chains and burn the place down with glasses of moonshine and paper dollars. Dark purple bruises painted the right side of her face, cheek swollen and scar on her brow scabbed as if it had been torn open. There were several other scrapes and gashes along her body, mostly arms and shoulders, and her hands sported even more plasters than they had before, that night. But the worst part of it all… had to be the  _new_  scar that was visible at the centre of her forehead.

A jagged, crisp  _'W'_ , drawn in deep cuts with a knife.

The mark of their cult. They'd taken her, subdued her, marked her;  _branded_  her like livestock. It gleamed in the dimly lit captive room with an unearthly red glow, flesh charred and angry, scabbed over and sore. He'd thought he had enough scars for the both of them, and now here she was wearing hers for the world to see, whilst his remained hidden under the fabric of his shirt and leather of his jacket. Hers were planted in the most obvious of spots, for anyone to see. Demons crawling across the plains of her face in the forms of deadly deep slashes. Slices of pain, torture, and abuse. Things he'd hoped she would never have to endure as he did.

Her eyes were dim when she walked into the room he was being held in, along with two other Wolves; pale and lifeless blue, lacking their usual flame that burned in the dark, lighting the way for all who lost their way on the path. One of the Wolves brushed his hand along her battered forearm as he passed, causing an involuntary shiver to rise from her shoulders, and he crouched down before Daryl, whose eyes held double the blaze in the place of Beth's.

"Couple others escaped this mornin'," he said, "Got out an' ran straight for that safe zone o' yours. Had help too. Some o' your guys came out ta meet 'em, sent our guys packing. What d'you have to say 'bout all this, huh?"

Daryl snorted. "Seems like ya need a better security team if shit like that's happening." he remarked.

Beth's mouth tightened.

The Wolf's eyebrows shot up in visible surprise, and he laughed, slow and dark. "You're a tough one," he stated, "I figured from the looks o' ya."

"Then you know keepin' me chained up like this ain't gonna ya do much good in the long run."

"Suppose it ain't… In the long run. But yer here now, tied up like a dog, an' you're not getting' out any time soon."

Like a dog. A damned  _dog_.

It was that stupid mutt that had started this whole thing.

"…Gonna kill me?"

"Later. For now we got things t'do… Stuff t'ask ya."

"Like what?"

The Wolf rose to his feet and began slowly pacing. A hilariously melodramatic move for a villain, and if not for the situation Daryl would have laughed. But the grim expression on Beth's face as she watched him stopped him from doing so, and he tried to figure out what she was trying to tell him with her eyes.

"You come from that Alexandria place," the Wolf said, still pacing, "But ya ain't always been there."

"What makes ya say that?"

"You originally come from a big group, 'bout a dozen of ya, probably more. Hard to miss a group that big wandering through the area. First we thought you was with those Alexandrians, b'fore two o' your girls pointed their guns at one o' the fuckers when he approached 'em.  _Then_  he led y'all into that prissy safe zone."

 _Aaron_. Maggie and Sasha had been the first to see him, Daryl wouldn't have been surprised if they'd pointed their guns at him. Hell Rick had punched him square in the face when he'd first met him. But that wasn't the frightening thing about what the Wolf was telling him, and Beth knew it…

They'd been watching them. All this time, since  _god knows_  when. Always there, just out of plain sight,  _watching_. Wolves in the trees, stalking their prey.

And  _they_  were the prey.

If they hadn't happened upon Alexandria when they did… If Aaron hadn't shown his face when he had, if he and Eric had just decided to go on and leave them… The same thing that had happened to Beth and her group might've happened to them. It was one thing to be hunted, but another to be  _caught_.

"Y'see, group like yours: big, capable, strong; you're all a pretty big threat to us. You're all able to defend yourselves, even the little lad. Only extra cargo ya got's really the baby…"

Daryl and Beth both winced at the mention of Judith. Of little Judy, being torn apart, thrown to walkers, having her throat slit,  _whatever_. These people wouldn't show mercy just because it was a child, even a  _baby_. If not for the walls of Alexandria… Judith would be dead. Unlike them, she needed walls to survive. She wouldn't have made it any longer out there after the fall of the prison. Lori had brought her into a world she wasn't cut out for without those walls.

"But that little baby's now safe an' sound inside your precious home. At least that's what ya all  _think_."

The other Wolf beside Beth piped up then, a female one, with dark knotty hair that fell around her shoulders like coils of wire. The mark on her forehead was smoother than Beth's. Neater. Probably because she'd done it herself, and intentionally.

"You think yer safe behind them walls," she said, "…But yer not. Walls're tough, yeah. Keep chompers out. But can they keep  _us_  out?"

"Only way in 'n' out's through t'gate." Daryl rumbled.

"Lad from your group don't seem to follow that same logic. Little guy, thinks he's tough, and wears that stupid lookin' sheriff's hat.  _He_  don't seem t'agree with that… Neither does his little girlfriend."

What?

Both Wolves snickered at his dumbfounded reaction and exchanged glances of amusement. Daryl's brows furrowed, and he tried to think just what'd tickled them so. And then the wave of realisation washed over him at the mention of a sheriff's hat.

Carl had been sneaking out of the safe zone. Him and the girl, Enid, her name was. They'd been disappearing together quite a lot recently, only no one had thought to wonder where it was they disappeared  _to_. The walls were strong, tough, and durable. But if there was one thing that they weren't, it was that they weren't exactly all that  _tall_.

Beth seemed to realise at the same time Daryl did, and her eyes blazed with a silent anger for the kids' stupid actions. The male Wolf laughed harder at the rage-slash-annoyance written all over his face, and planted a hand firmly on his shoulder. Daryl's eyes shot to the unwelcome hand, before shifting to glare mightily at the Wolf the hand belonged to.

"S'more weak spots than ya think in your walled up home, more blind spots. And we will get in. And kill every last one o' those motherfuckers insi–"

His sentence was cut off by Daryl slamming his head straight into the Wolf's, with such a force it brought blood from the man's nose. It trickled down his lips and stained his teeth a dark red, and he licked his lips. Like a predator wiping its mouth clean of its victim's innards. He rose from his crouched position and stared down at Daryl, before bursting out into laughter again. He then turned to the female Wolf and grinned.

"Why dont'ya teach our friend here some manners, Rachel." he said, and she returned the grin.

The mask concealing Beth's panic wavered for a second, and her eyes darted to the Wolf beside her briefly. The woman cracked her knuckles and turned her gaze onto him.

"With pleasure." she hummed.

Beth moved either to stop her, or to make a run for it as far away as she could. But the male Wolf stopped her.

" _Edgy_ ," he taunted, "Where you off to all a sudden? Thought y'could stay an' watch the show."

"I just remembered I have-"

"No... You  _don't_."

He got up real close in her face, and smiled. A dark, eerie smile, that pulled over his teeth like a snarl. And he reached inside the cost of his pocket and pulled out something resembling a broken wristwatch, and dangled it in front of her face. Whatever that watch was supposed to represent, it quelled the edginess in Beth, and she stilled. The Wolf's smile deepened at her reaction, and he shoved it back into his pocket once she took a step back and lowered her head.

Like a pack member submitting to her alpha—admitting defeat.

She didn't look at Daryl after that.

The Wolf leaned his back against the door and folded his arms across his chest, and looked back to Daryl and the female Wolf approaching him. The smile was still crisp on his features, and Daryl wanted to rip it from him with his bare hands.

The female Wolf stopped once just before him, and stared down at him from above her chin. He met her gaze with blazing defiance, and she put a hand on her hip. She circled him once, studying him, before striking her foot down across his face hard. She did it again, then again, and a trickle of blood ran from his nostrils. He glanced up at Beth then, and his heart sank further at the look of sheer overflowing horror on her face. Her hands were clutching the hem of her vest so tight her knuckles were as white as the shirt, and her lips were pressed together in a tight line. Her eyes regarded him in the light of something she wanted so desperately to save, and was willing to do anything to do that... But could not.

If Beth Greene was looking at him like he was a lost cause, like there was absolutely nothing she could do to save him, then he supposed he must be. He knew she wanted to stop them from doing this, knew having to stand by and let it happen made the blow on her twice as painful as his. If she acted out, the Wolves would know she knew him. Then they would probably make the connection that she knew the others at Alexandria too. And if they figured all that out... Then it was bye-bye to all those people they were holding captive.

That was the curse of having a big heart like Beth. You tried to save everyone, but sometimes resulted in saving no one at all.

.

.

It was dark again by the time Daryl was alone in his cell. Satisfied with his beating, the Wolves had retreated—with a mildly reluctant Beth—and left him alone to wallow in his misery.

His face was bruised and bloody from the female Wolf's administrations, and he was pretty sure his nose was broken. He was also sporting two swollen eyes that would break out into fine purples. His head throbbed from dehydration, and the dry blood on his face was sticky and cracked. He'd had the shit beat out of him, and was left to sit and feel like crying like a little bitch. He sure as hell wanted to cry, but for some reason found he couldn't. Maybe it was because he didn't want to be caught crying in front of the enemy, or because he wanted to appear strong. But really all he could think of was that any tears he'd had left had been used up already.

The door creaked, and once again Beth came scurrying in, only this time with her arms full with a dripping wet cloth. She knelt before him and wiped it across his brow, a soft breath puffing out of his mouth at the cooling sensation, and he allowed her to swipe it across his bloody brow and nose. The submissive expression from before was gone whilst she performed the ritual, and the raging blue flames were back. She glared at spots of his face all except his eyes, and brushed the wet cloth across them firmly.  _Scrubbing_  to get the pain off.

"Did they take all your weapons?" she asked suddenly.

"Uh," He shifted in his seated position and tilted his head to search for a familiar brown article at his hip… Which wasn't there. He frowned. "Yeah."

She frowned before reaching down and withdrawing something that was tucked into her belt loops and pulled it out. And even in the faint light of the holding room, he could still make out what the object was, or what he at least thought it was.

"Isn' that...?"

"Yes, it's your knife."

The long blade glowed silver in the dimness as she sliced it along the ropes binding his hands, and soon enough his hands were free. She then made work of the bindings at his ankles, and helped him to his feet.

"Where did you...?"

She slung one of his arms across her shoulders and held him against her. "You dropped it in the woods. I picked it up and held onto it for you. Like you've been holding onto mine."

"Or  _was_  holdin' onto." he mumbled, glancing down at the empty space where the little knife had sat.

"Hey,"

Her eyes regarded him with a softness he hadn't seen in some time, and she squeezed his arm. "It's not a big deal. It's just a knife."

"Not to me."

Her lips parted and she looked down almost guilty. The slashed  _'W'_  on her forehead was ever clearer now, the lines cleaner and smoother, as if she had washed it to avoid infection. Most of her scars were smooth now, just faded lines that served as a memory for that time she'd spent holed up in that fucking hospital as a captive. Similar to how she was now actually, only this was much more feral, wilder.

Daryl forgot about his fatigue and pain for a minute, and pressed his battered head against her left temple. The action surprised her, he could tell by the sharp intake of breath, but she didn't swerve away. They stood like that for a while, despite the urgency of the situation, his head pressed to her temple like the barrel of the gun, blood pumping to his head and strumming against her temple like clockwork, an endless reminder that time would always be her enemy. Her downfall. Maybe  _he_  would be the death of her after all, for real this time.

"We need to move,"

He withdrew himself and looked down at her. "Where to?"

" _Out_. You need to get out."

"You ain't comin'?"

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "...I can't leave knowing that saving myself, I turned down the chance to save all those other people. I can't."

"I know. Ya won't stop tryin', no matter what."

She smiled then.

"Like you."

He smirked. "Got that right. I ain't ever givin' up on you, Greene. Least ya know that."

"I might not be giving up on the others here, but I'm not giving up on you either. You, or Maggie, or anyone."

"I don't doubt that. You're Beth Greene… You  _don't_  give up."

She looked away again and tugged him along towards the door of the room, him noticing the slight pink tinge to her cheeks, and he tightened his arm around her shoulders. Maybe for support, maybe to be closer to her. Who knows?

However, when they got to the door and Beth reached to turn the handle, it opened to reveal a very pissed off looking Wolf.

Beth froze, physically caught in the act of helping prisoner escape this time, and words escaped her. Daryl itched to slam a fist into the fucker's mouth, but his arms were too weak.

"Fuck's goin' on? What're you doing!?"

The momentary stun left Beth's features, and her iron mask returned. Only somehow, Daryl sensed this wasn't entirely just a mask this time.

"What I should've done long before," she said, and swung her foot right up so it collided, unfortunately, with the man's groin.

He didn't seem to have been expecting her to do that, as he made no move to stop such a predicated action, and fell to his knees holding his balls. Wasting no time, Beth pulled Daryl along over the Wolf's whining body, showing no mercy as she trampled over him with her hard cowboy boots. In fact Daryl almost felt sorry for the guy because of the amount of pain that was surely shooting through his lower regions, but then he remembered all the things he and his group had done. To his family,  _and_  to Beth. And he suddenly didn't feel so bad anymore.

Beth and he jogged down the corridors of the stinky old building, cautiously poking her head around corners to check if anyone was there. Daryl thought it odd there were so little Wolves about, to say this was their den.

"Where're they all?" he couldn't help asking.

A grin broke out across her features at the question.

"Before I went to bust you out, I busted a couple of my people out. Told 'em to run for the safe zone with directions, but go different ways. Course that confused the hell out'a the Wolves, so most of them are out searching for runaways... Too bad they don't know there's gonna be a ton more soon."

"What's that mean?"

Her eyes gleamed and she flashed teeth.

"It means we're making a break-out.  _All_  of us."

"Thought ya said ya were gonna be careful, that ya wasn' gonna leave without a solid chance of making it."

"I was, but I thought about what you said, about getting help, and I want your help Daryl,  _need_  it. I can't let these people stay here for a second longer. They need to get out, to be free, but I can't get them out alone…"

_Ask me._

_Ask._

_Beth Greene, fucking_ ask _me._

"I'm asking you...  _to help me_. Will you?"

_Help me._

"...Girl… The fuck do you  _think_?"


	12. Slit my wrists and burn me down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to pretend you're invincible, especially around your kryptonite, and Daryl is certainly not unbreakable. So what does any loyal creature do when her master is in peril? She helps him. Like he helps her. Even if the world is striking her with its fist endlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so a couple of things before I give you this chapter.
> 
> First, it's fucking short. I'm sorry about the length of this one compared to the others, but I've been super busy with college assignments, other stories, and basically life. Not to mention Christmas is coming up soon :D (you might get a special chapter around then) But yeah, I just thought I'd warn you that this one is nowhere near the length of all the other chapters. Not to say it isn't eventful though. Stuff still happens. Only there's about 1500 words to do it in.
> 
> Second, I've done some art for this fic. It's only a brief scribble really with colour, but it's something I thought you guys might be interested to see. It's on my tumblr and deviantART, and the links are in my bio if you want to check it out.
> 
> And third, this story should be coming to a close soon. Well not soon, but relatively soon. I aimed to be finished around New Years. I estimate about approx six/seven chapters left before the end. The number may change, but that's the amount I'm pretty sure on. But don't worry, those chapters will be nowhere near as short as this one here. It's just a one-time thing since it's been so long since I last updated.
> 
> I also wanted to say that I love you guys, and I never imagined that doing something like this could be such a blast! Thank you so so much for all your constant support and feedback, you bring me life.
> 
> So enjoy, little ones, and I hope this small chapter holds you off until the next time. X

It was almost comical how they did it.

Let her people out that is.

They sneaked around the building that was used as basecamp, tip-toeing around any Wolves they saw. Or just simply knocking them unconscious. If not for Daryl's condition, they probably would've split up to make the situation easier somehow, but even if he were in full strength, he still doubted Beth would let him out of her sight for even a second. She was clinging to him like a crutch he couldn't walk without, like if she let go, he would topple and powder. Being Daryl Dixon, he wasn't used to being treated like glass. Wasn't used to having someone be afraid to touch him too roughly, or shake him too hard. And Beth was doing just that.

"Beth," he hissed finally, "I ain't gonna break, y'know! S'just a couple of bumps and scratches."

She gave him a look.

Somehow her looks always managed to subdue him, like a pack animal submitting to its alpha, and she was very much alpha.

"It's okay to drop the invincible tough guy act once in a while, especially if you're hurt. You don't always have to pretend to be Superman."

"Pretty hard to around my kryptonite."

She smiled dryly and left him by a table to lean on for support. She then crept over to a door with a huge  _WARNING_  sign plastered onto it, though the black and yellow lettering had long eroded. She removed the slab of wood blocking the door and pushed it aside quietly, the sound of the wood softly hitting hard marble muffled by her carefulness.

Daryl was curious then as to what this place actually was, with its long corridors, excessive warning signs, and sparking wires hanging from ceilings.

It was a big building too, bigger than they'd seen in a long time, and he hadn't remembered seeing a place like it during runs or recruiting.

"What  _is_  this place?"

"Some abandoned factory a couple miles west of Alexandria. The Wolves found it way before they found me, an' they've been living here ever since."

"A  _factory_?"

That explained the warning signs.

"'Kind of factory?"

"I think it was some kind of shortbread or cookie factory, it'd explain the baking mix and packets of them I sometimes find."

"And what's through there?"

She stared at him through dark heavy lashes that merged with the dark rings beneath her eye sockets. The bruises stood out even in the dim light, and the  _'W'_  on her head seemed somehow flashier than the billboard screaming  _WARNING_.

Forget  _Wolf_. It should stand for  _that_.

A warning sign, clear as day.

Warning of the threat that was Beth Greene.

"This is the machinery, where the shortbread mix would be stirred… This is where they keep prisoners."

"You mean they keep 'em in... In  _cake mixers_?"

Her expression was grim.

"...Ready to eat."

He wanted to shudder at the mental image.

He was reminded briefly of that fucked up fairy-tale about the two sibling children who were abandoned in the woods by their father, and happened upon a house made of gingerbread. There they were captured by a witch and fattened up to be eaten. The similarity was alarming, much like back at Terminus actually. But there, Rick and Carol had played Hansel and Gretel, and gotten them out. Tricked the cannibals-slash-witches and gotten them all killed.

This time it was his and Beth's turn to play the little heroes.

"What're we waitin' for?" he asked.

Her eyes flashed.

" _Nothing_."

Inside the machinery wasn't what Daryl would call eerily quiet. There was a distant dripping echoing from somewhere, the machines still gave off an electric hum despite the lack of power, and he could hear  _voices_  nearby. Little panicked whispers, whimpers, sobs, any sound of distress.

Beth had handed him a gun before they entered—one they'd raided from a now unconscious Wolf's pockets—so they jogged quietly around the huge machines, weapons ready.

At some point the voices grew ever louder, and the daunting machinery began to emit sounds that sounded like wailing. Loud, haunting moans of misery that penetrated his eardrums and sent goose bumps along his bare arms. Beth crept beside him, a gun of her own held up, and her arms too sporting fine layers of cold-bruised flesh and cuts. She met his gaze for a minute, eyes wavering at the sound of the frightened sobs, and her mouth twitched. He wanted to reach out and tuck her into him, wipe off all those awful bumps and bruises and bury her into him as deep as she would go. Pull her away from the world that struck her endlessly like his Old Man had his Ma.

He'd often wondered why his dad had never just gone and killed the woman, with all the beatings and foul words to her person. How if he hated her so much like he claimed, he didn't just erase her stain from his life. But now Daryl realised it was greater suffering when the person was  _alive_ , than compared to them being dead.

Death was a peace, an escape route out of everything that brought pain. And the universe apparently didn't want that for Beth.

So it  _kept_  beating her, over and over again, until she was purple and sore, never killing her. Always beating just to the point of death, but never delivering the final blow to end it all. Because for some reason the universe thought Beth Greene deserved pain like that; complete physical agony that made a person  _want_  to be put out of their misery. Beat them so hard to the point they drank themselves to oblivion and burned down a house with themselves still inside.

_We should burn it down._

They burned all that away, torched those bad memories to a cinder. But that didn't stop Daryl from worrying that maybe...  _Maybe_... Beth might end up being pushed to the point of ending it herself too.

Slitting your wrists... Burning your house with you still inside...

What was the difference?

What was the world trying to accomplish by pushing literally the last person who deserved such an outcome towards that? What was it trying to gain? He remembered Hershel's words in what he thought was happening here, on God's plan. And he thought, if this was some kind of elaborate plan of J.C. then it was one truly  _fucked up_  plan if it involved extinguishing the flame that was Beth Greene.

She stopped walking and gestured for him to do the same, and they stood motionless just before a turning point.

Beth peeked out around the corner, her hair swishing at her shoulders as she did, and for a moment Daryl was almost hypnotised by it.  _Like a curtain of tangled starlight_ , he thought randomly.

And there was another sappy thought to add to the jar.

"We're clear," she whispered, "But don't make any sudden movements. They'll scream if you do."

She whistled, then gently tapped her fist against the machinery, soft metallic  _tap!_ s ringing out through the room. Daryl watched the intent carefulness sharp on her face, and waited. She looked back at him and nodded, before eventually walking out and around the corner. Daryl followed, using the turning machine beside to prevent falling over, until Beth reached back and took his hand, and interlaced their fingers. And suddenly that was the only support he needed.

He didn't know he was following a falling star into a dark abyss that sucked the life out of any that entered. How could he? He was only a little wolf after all, a cub at best _. It's like you were a kid, and now you're a man_. He may have become a man because of recent events, but he was still very much an infant canine.

A voice called quietly from around the corner.

"Beth?"


	13. Run rabbits run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Beth have finally freed the den prisoners, but at what price? Perhaps Beth isn't the empowering and elusive Wolf Daryl thought she was, and maybe there's something very, very wrong instead. Something triggered by blood, and killing, and him holding her close slightly against her will. And because of the scenario and state of the world... Those things are kind of hard to steer clear from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning, things are going to get a lot more fucked up and disturbing from here on out, so if you're the kind of person who doesn't like that, then you might not wanna keep reading. This covers topics like mental instability, delusions, darker violence... etc.  
> If you're okay with it though, that's cool. I just wanted to warn you all before you read on.

The voice was broken and croaky, like you would expect the voice of a person who hadn't been properly fed or watered for a while to sound, and who looked like  _that_.

Daryl and Beth turned the corner to where the biscuit mixers were, and Daryl's eyes widened at the sight of a small group all huddled in the machinery. Some were sitting, some kneeling, and others standing behaving all shifty and antsy. Not that he blamed them. They were stuck inside a fucking cookie mixer, after all.

Beth walked closer to them and leaned over the metal lip. The owner of the voice—a beat up man with a purple bruised face—came to meet her.

"What're you doing?" he hissed quietly, "I thought we had a system of when you came to us. Won't this screw it up?"

"No... Listen. I don't have to time explain everything, but basically, we're getting out."

Others heads perked at that and they all turned their attention to her.

"What'd'you mean:  _We're getting out_?" the same man parroted, "Aren't you the one that's been telling us how careful we need to be? What's changed to make you think and act so differently?"

"...I guess... I was just afraid to believe before. Afraid to ask."

Daryl felt a pang in his chest.

"I'm not afraid anymore."

"Of them?"

Her brow creased.

_You don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid_ , she'd said. Same went for her. What meant she could do the same to  _him_ , and get away with it? What gave her the right to be what she's screamed in his face not to be?

_You don't get it!_

What was there even to get?

_Just because you're afraid._

_I ain't afraid of nothin'._

She smiled. And this smile held traces of the Beth that would sing and laugh at his awkward grumbles. The girl that followed him through the woods, jumping over leaves and occasionally tripping over tree roots. The girl that was unscathed; unscarred; un _touched_  by the world. The first person to, instead of beating the living shit out of him and taunt, come out and  _tell_  him that he was wrong. That Beth was gone now. She'd died in the hospital, maybe even way before he'd come to save her. She'd been sharpened like steel, and forged into cold metal. Sinister, ruthless, bred in captivity.

_DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS_ , he'd seen signs reading in zoos on his crappy old television.

Feed them what? Hope? The hope of getting out? Beth hadn't been fed that in her captivity, that was for sure.

_No,_ you _don't get it!_

Beth Greene had been living without hope for a while now, running with wolves, and never looking back.

Until him.

She looked back for  _him_.

_I'm not afraid anymore._

_Of what, Beth?_   _What aren't you afraid of?_

"...Of everything." she breathed.

_I get it now._

.

.

It turned out running with busted limbs through a maze of corridors, with a stampede of random people behind you, wasn't the best situation to escape in. Daryl almost stumbled multiple times, or tripped over someone, so eventually Beth threw his arm across her shoulder and dragged him along, his hand clamped around her bony waist to prevent falling.

She wanted to try, but surely she must have known that not everyone was going to get out of this mess. Surely.

_You wanted me to try, right?_

_I'm trying._

_I'm good._

"Who let these fuckers out!?"

The Wolf that came out of nowhere almost didn't finish his sentence as Beth left Daryl's side and jammed the plank of wood she was carrying down his throat. The wood skewered down his neck and tore through at the front with a morbidly hypnotizing  _squelch!_

Some of the blood spurted out onto her charred face and she withdrew the plank from his throat, wiping it with her fist. Her head whipped backward to regard them all, and the position really highlighted the true malicious factor to her expression. Her profile was grim and her eyes were dull with carnage, and the blood splashed across her cheeks painted the scarred cuts sharply like war paint.

Daryl found it both disturbing to see her like this, and  _exhilarating_ , as heat flooded to the pit of his stomach. Hardly the fucking time, his brain screamed.

She wiped some of the blood from her mouth with her hand, smearing it up her cheek, and spat a clump of thick red. "Keep goin'." she said, her tone low and raspy.

One of the men from the group pulled Daryl's arm up over his shoulder and set off running with him, despite his body's alarmed rigidness at the contact. The more agile members of the group had acquired makeshift weapons from things they found lying around, like pieces of glass, metal pipes, etc. Whereas the physically weaker members flocked to the centre of the formation for protection. Whenever a Wolf came across them, which was becoming more frequent, Beth or one of the others took care of them, via simply knocking out or killing. And whenever they did the latter, Daryl didn't miss the red shimmering gleam in Beth's eyes, as if she was  _enjoying_  it, on some small fucked up level.

_Killing them is not supposed to be_ fun _!_

_It just ain't us, man._

_No… No it isn't._

But on the bright side, they were plowing through the building pretty quickly, even if they were basically bathed in blood by the time they reached a side fire exit. The sunlight was harsh white and really made the streams of red running down their bodies really stand out.

Beth's hair was hardly blonde anymore as she stabbed a Wolf in the jugular with a shard of glass, repeatedly shoving the sharp end in where thick blood shot out onto her. It was dripping down her arms and face, and her white vest was no longer white in any sense.

She kept on stabbing as the others ran past, even when the Wolf was long dead, endlessly forcing the object into his neck. Like she was trying to prove something. Fix a past mistake. Show that she could do it this time…

And  _enjoy_  it, apparently.

Daryl struggled away from the man holding him upright and staggered over to her, and pulled her wrist away from the dead Wolf's neck. The blood on her transferred to him and she struggled against him, almost like she didn't recognize it was him. Like she didn't recognize  _herself_.

As the others darted past, taking out remaining Wolves, Daryl snarled. He squeezed her wrist tightly and steadied himself by planting his other hand on her hip, an action which forced her to act out.

Eyes squeezed shut, she thrust the glass shard up into his hip, and it tore through the flesh and muscle there. He cried out in agony and slumped in spasm, and that seemed to wake her up from her killing trance. Her eyes went wide with horror and travelled down to where her own hand had shoved the thing up into him. She shook on the spot, eyes wide but completely without light, and Daryl could stand it no longer.

Summoning all his strength, he gripped her hip and tugged her against him, essentially pushing the glass further into his rib and crushing her against him with it. Beth struggled and whined, but he clamped his arms around her and held her like a vice. The blood on her wiped all onto him and he buried his face into her dirty hair. The smell was overpowering; strong metallic copper, spicy on his lips and sharp.

"Stop it…!" she gasped through the layers of blood and leather, and tried to pull herself away from him.

Daryl was aware this was sort of manhandling, and her cries made him think of a similar time back at the moonshiner's shack, but this time was also very different.

_…_ _Stop it…! Stopitstopit…!_

_STOP IT!_

Her struggling intensified and she started kicking. The hand that wasn't holding the glass shard moved up and started hitting his shoulder, and she gripped a handful of hair and pulled.

Daryl cried out when she did, but he only held on tighter, the pain in his rib excruciating. She then pushed her head into his neck and began  _biting_ , deep hard gnaws, sinking her teeth in like she was a walker. Or a starved wolf. The sounds she was making sure did  _sound_  like fucking growls. Her teeth tore through flesh at his shoulder and Daryl could feel the blood leaking down and staining her teeth. Like there wasn't enough on them already. She stood on his foot and stomped her heel into it, and slammed her fist against his chest, mouth moving against his neck to form words.

Words that both scared and made Daryl angry. So angry all he saw was red, and not just the red of the blood.

_Stopitstopit!_

_Just let me_ die _already!_

Finally, when her scuffles didn't cease, Daryl had to make a decision.

More Wolves would undoubtedly be on their way, and Beth wasn't going anywhere in this state. And he'd be damned if he was going to leave her.

…Not again.

So he balled his fist and bashed the bottom centre of her back, knocking her out, and she sagged against him like a limp bag of blood. Her hand dropped the glass shard but it didn't fall from where it sat wedged in his rib, so there it stayed. Her eyelids drooped shut and her head fell against him, cheek laying against his shoulder and jaws stopping chomping. With her now subdued, he ignored the agonizing shrieks of his body and folded his arms around her waist and knees, hauling her up and holding her to his chest in the third morbid bridal carry to date. He held her to him.

Like a child.

A doll. Limp and broken, chipped and shattered porcelain. Daryl remembered the first time he'd ever carried her like this, under completely different settings, in what felt like another lifetime, and wondered if it would  _ever_  feel like that again.

_I'm goin' as fast as I can._

_Screw that._

If it would ever feel like that again…

Like life.

Like he was carrying fucking  _life_ , and not just death.

Spitting a shot of blood and saliva on the ground, Daryl grunted and began walking, every step feeling a lot like he was walking on hot needles. Sweat and blood ran down from his hair and leaked into his eyes, but honestly he couldn't find a reason to care anymore. It was then that he realized he was without his crossbow, but again, he was oddly uncaring about it. Nothing mattered, nothing at all. Not even Beth, and certainly not himself.

He wondered what would happen if he just kept on walking with her in his arms until his strength eventually gave out, which is surely would. He could carry her through the woods and offer the two of them to a cluster of walkers they'd come across, let them sink their rotting jaws into their flesh like Beth had to him, and be done with it. Because if  _she_  didn't have any hope left, then how the hell was  _he_  supposed to?

He kept walking, like he always had. One of the things the apocalypse had taught him to do.

Walk on, no matter what the fuck was going wrong this time.

There were times he considered loosening his grip on Beth. Considered letting go and watching her fall to the grounds on a bed of leaves to sleep for all eternity, for him to lay down next to her, and he wondered why he just didn't… But he never did.

That didn't mean he wasn't thinking about it though.

Beth didn't stir as he kept walking, just laid in his arms flaccidly, eyes closed and lips parted. Her limbs swayed with his every step, and her head rolled back at some point, exposing her scraped up neck to him, raw and blue veins pumping blood.

He thought about leaning down and sinking his teeth into it, snapping the vein that sent miniscule traces of life flooding throughout her body, then slitting open his wrist and letting himself bleed out too. So they could sleep at last, and rest in peace.

_Rest in peace, then get up and go to war._

_What_  war?

With  _them_? A couple of wild Wolves? Walkers?

Death?

Or really… just with themselves?

He stifled what felt like a growing sob and pressed his chin onto her forehead, onto the scruffy bandage that covered the black hole in her head that threatened to suck him in.

_Let it_ , he challenged. Maybe that was best. Maybe that was how it was always supposed to be. The world was dying, maybe they were supposed to as well. Beth had tried once, then twice, so maybe for once he should just let her. It was fucking selfish on his part to force her to be here, to live, to give  _him_  something to live for. But it wasn't all selfish, he told himself, not all.

_I'm sorry._

_I just need you so fucking bad._

And he  _knew_  she needed him too. She wanted  _him_  so fiercely she was willing to cut anyone's throat who got in the way of getting what she wanted.

That was the real problem.

They needed each other too fucking  _much_ , if that was even possible.

_I want you, I need you_.

It wasn't like Daryl had wanted to need someone so much, to crave their closeness and company, force their existence even if they didn't want it. And he was pretty sure that Beth hadn't wanted it either.

Yet here they were.

_I'm_ so _sorry, Beth._

He kept walking until he got to wherever it was they were supposed to end up.

.

.

He ended up walking back to Alexandria, having unconsciously followed the tracks of the other prisoners that had run like frightened little rabbits. His arms felt hardened to steel and burned deep to the nerves, Beth's wilted body hanging from them only just. Any moisture he'd had in his mouth before had dried up, along with the damp the blood had created, and his breathing was cracked and labored. His vision was obscured by clumps of black oily hair, and it still felt like he was walking on needles. But still he carried on.

_Because that's what we do_.

He couldn't even summon the strength to call out as he neared the gates, but he still kept walking. He didn't have the strength to do anything but.

_S'like you've used it all up already._

"Daryl!"

Maggie called to him from where she stood on top of the fence, and he only just saw that her face had lit up… Until she realized her sister wasn't conscious in his arms. She hopped down out of sight and blurred voices became audible behind the gate, before it eventually rolled open. As it did, Daryl finally dropped to his knees and caught Beth's head in his palm, holding it up, chin held high. She wobbled in sync with him, and the blood caked over her was dried and flaky, apart from several thicker parts that were still wet. Like paint.

Maggie and Rick came running out, followed by Abraham and Glenn.

Maggie dropped to the floor level with him and pushed her fingers up through her hair as she stared at the unmoving form of her sister, and Daryl realized what she must be thinking even in his semi-conscious state.

"She's alive," he spluttered.

_…_ _She's alive?_

_She's alive._

The look of sheer dismay and horror left her face and was replaced with one of absolute gratitude, and for a moment he thought she was about to burst out crying. Instead, she jumped forward and threw her arms around him, and she  _did_  cry then. It was only quiet, and choked up by sobs, but Daryl was sure he'd heard what she said…

_Thank you._

_Daryl._ Thank _you._

Rick wound his arm around Daryl's waist and pulled him up, whilst Maggie and Glenn took Beth from him. Daryl watched them take her through the safe zone gates, blonde hair streaked with red, like stars exploding into red clouds of dust to drift through space forever… And he let himself fall into the abyss too, and slumped against Rick and Abraham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, Beth biting Daryl was not intended as a means to reference that fan biting Norman at WSC last weekend. I actually wrote this BEFORE that happened, so I sort of feel like I accidentally foreshadowed it happening O_O Hope not!
> 
> Yes, this chapter was dark. Things are explained more in the next one, but this is the first time Beth has shown visible signs of mental trauma. Can you blame her? I sure don't. But how will Daryl deal with that, if she's barely coping herself? Next time, look forward to that, as well as being inside Alexandria again, and some interactions with awesome characters like Dr Edwards.
> 
> Also, was it just me? Or was it a little too easy getting out of the Wolf den...? :)


	14. That's what we do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course there would be a price to her coming back to him alive and seemingly well. There always is in this kind of world. And the price for this... Might be too much for Daryl to take.  
> He's come so far, fought so hard, and carried so much on his shoulders. He's paid the price a million times over by now, and you'd think he'd finally get a break once in a while, get something he deserves.  
> But it seems even that comes with a price. Not that he's surprised.

When Daryl awoke, it would be a bit of an understatement to say he was a little disoriented.

He opened his eyes and felt his head spin, when he realized that the bed he was in was actually in a different position to where he'd thought it was, so he got a stupid headache from that. Rolling over and shoving his head into the pillow that was far too soft for his liking, he made a groggy sound and sat up slowly, a shooting pain suddenly appearing in his side. He winced and hunched forward, hand gripping his burning side, and found bandages wound around his stomach where it hurt.

He tried to remember what the hell was going on, when a voice interrupted him.

"Hey. Easy there. Ya really don't wanna tear that thing open again."

He blinked the fuzzy layer from his eyes and shifted his gaze to the figure sat by the beside, and was surprised when he recognized it to be Maggie.

"Still with us?" she asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

He groaned in response and pressed his forehead onto his knee. His head was pounding and the wound in his side was throbbing.

He was still trying to remember what was even going on and how he got here… Until he finally did.

"Where's Beth?" he coughed, regretting the decision to whip his head up so fast, "…An' why ain't you with  _her_?"

Maggie gave him a dry look and crossed her arms as she sat back in the chair. " _Beth_  is still sleeping, in another room. And Glenn an' I  _have_  been with her, I only just came here to see how  _you_  were doin'."

"She… ok?"

Maggie's expression softened.

"She's still alive, so don't worry."

That calmed him down, and he sat back in the bed. He broke his gaze away from Maggie's and stared down at his grimy hands, pushing the pain from his side and pounding temples away.

"I was t'one who knocked her out…" he admitted, "Sorry… 'bout that."

"You must'a had a good reason to."

Daryl rubbed his head and groaned again, partially because of the pain, and partially because of how he remembered Beth being before he'd knocked her out.

There she'd been, caked in blood of those just recently killed, slashing away at a Wolf's throat, somewhat blind and deaf to his presence. Her screaming, struggling, fighting him off with her hands, legs,  _teeth_.

_Stop it. Stopitstopit. Daryl!_

_Let me die already._

He clenched his teeth and sat up properly.

He wasn't sure where that had come from, and maybe she hadn't either when she'd said it, but that unsettled him to the bone.

 _Let me die_.

Because if even only for a split second… She'd wanted to die.

Again.

And not even  _he_  had been enough to stop her from wanting that. Because no matter how much she wanted and needed him... For the briefest of moments, she'd  _still_  wanted to be put out of her misery. A misery not even he could cure.

 _Beth_.

He threw the covers off and swung his aching legs off the side, and Maggie leapt up too when he did.

"What're you doing!?"

"The hell it looks like. I'm gettin' up!"

"You can't! Dr Edwards told me not to let you."

"I don't care."

"You will when you get a busted rib from not listening to a doctor's orders! Now get back into bed and get some damn  _rest_!"

"Would you sit back an' rest if it was Glenn in her place?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he knew he'd got her stumped.

He smirked.

"That's what I thought."

She scowled and sighed, and put her hands on her hips. "Well at least let me help ya get to her. I can't have you falling down every five seconds on the way."

"Fine whatever," he grumbled, climbing out of the bed and stumbling a bit.

Maggie caught him and draped an arm around her shoulders—a gesture he was getting pretty sick of now, especially after the recent events of escaping the Wolf den. But he knew better than to shrug her off, because whilst Beth was stubborn as hell,  _Maggie_  was a storm, and she wouldn't take  _any_  of the shit he tried to throw.

They left the room and she lead him down a corridor Daryl recognized as the sick bay in Alexandria, him wobbling a few times and almost toppling onto Maggie as he did.

"Did ya hear what I said to ya at the front gates?" she asked out of the blue as they wandered down the hall.

"…Yeah."

"I mean it y'know. Thank you."

"Y'don't have to keep sayin' it."

"But I  _do_."

He glanced down at her and she gave him a hard, yet somehow sincere, look.

"No one ever thanks you for the things you do, and I think that's wrong. You do so much for everyone, even for the people of this place, an' they just take it for granted. I don't think I've  _ever_  heard anyone say thanks to you."

"I don't need people's thanks."

"Maybe not, but it's still nice to get it."

Daryl looked down at the floorboards and furrowed his brow, pieces of hair conveniently falling into his face and covering his eyes from Maggie's calculating gaze. She was worse than Deanna with that, probably having picked it up from the old woman.

"...Ya don't need to thank me for doin' somethin' like that." he said quietly.

"I know. You didn't do it for me. Not completely anyway. You did it for yourself, 'cause you care about her, an' you're willing to do anythin' to keep her safe."

"Stop makin' it sound so fuckin' mushy."

She laughed.

"Well that's how it is. That's what it's like when you love someone. It's being there when they need it, when they don't wanna feel tomorrow. You  _make_  'em feel it. You're there... You try."

_I'm trying…_

_I'm trying for you. Only for you. Because that's what ya showed me, what ya made me see. I can try, and I can do it for you. Even when_ you _don't do it._

 _Because that's what you made me believe in. You made me believe in_ you _._

And people don't just stop believing in Beth Greene, even if she sinks her teeth into you and tries to eat you like an animal desperate for meat. You let her gnaw at your flesh, cry into your shoulder, kick you, punch you, scream at you... Because you still believe in her.

A long time ago, her Daddy had told them that they weren't too far gone, a belief even Rick believed in, and Daryl was holding onto that.

_Hold on, hold on, you gotta hold on._

Hold onto that, and believe that the girl who killed a wolf and wrapped herself in its skin and fur wasn't too far gone.

Maggie lead him down a small flight of stairs, steadying him against her whenever he stumbled, and tugged him into a room on the left. Inside was very similar to the one he'd woken up in, not that it was very surprising since it was just a part of the building design some lazy fucker had drawn out because he couldn't be bothered to give each room a separate design. And at the other end of the room, asleep in a bed very much like his own... Was Beth.

He and Maggie walked closer to the bed, and Daryl stared down at the sleeping form of her.

She'd been cleaned, blood wiped from her face and washed from her hair, but the cuts and bruises were still clear as day. Deep, long gashes spread out across her face like patterns, stitched and broken flesh stuck back together, and the bandage at the top of her head replaced and clean.

Despite the portrait of abuse painted on her face, her expression remained peaceful, and her lips were parted in a small bow shape to allow tiny puffs of air to blow out, and more to be sucked in. Daryl felt his breathing regulate at the sight of her, but his heart quickened because of her state. The throbbing in his head had now gone, but the thorn in his side remained—a sharp reminder that it was  _she_  who had made it.

Maggie lowered him down on the armchair beside Beth's bed, and he went down like an old man, grunting and groaning because of his sore joints. She then walked to the opposite side of the bed and took a seat on the wooden stool, and reached out to clasp Beth's hand softly. Daryl stared at her from across the way, and watched her fingers stroke Beth's paler, small ones.

Emotions flickered in Maggie's green eyes as she stared at her sister, and she reached out with her other hand to brush away some loose hair tendrils from her face.

"She always liked her hair nice an' long," she smiled, voice distant and nostalgic, "Threw an honest-to-god tantrum whenever the barber cut it only an  _inch_  too short… An' now... It's almost as short as mine."

Daryl didn't feel the need to pass comment to that, so he merely listened, and watched as she stroked her thumb along Beth's tattered left cheek that now sported three fine deep cuts as opposed to just one, one slice way longer than the other two so that it reached the side of her mouth. It looked like a permanent, cruel smile.

"And her face. Look at it. All... All cut up an' mangled. Even with all that happening to her, even with all the pain and loss... She still pulled through. Even though I... though she probably thinks I forgot about her when she was out there with you, an' all I could think about was finding Glenn."

Her eyes wobbled with thick droplets and her lip trembled as she never once tore her gaze from her sleeping sister.

"You were right when you said I thought she was dead. I  _did_  think that. After we saw Daddy killed outside the fences of the prison, on what was definitely the worst day of my life... I left her. I  _left_  my baby sister when I went to find my husband, an' I didn't have any idea where she went after I did that. She might've gotten on the bus, but she could'a been shot down by the Governor's men... Or blown up with that tank...  _Eaten_... She could'a been dead 'cause I  _left her there_. They  _all_  could'a been dead."

 _Did_ you _think anyone else could'a made it out of there alive? Probably Rick... But me... Or Carl?... Judith? Did you believe any of them made it out alive?_

"I told her that I couldn't take another funeral when she wanted to end it all back on the farm with me. Couldn't take another grave on my shoulders... But I practically went and dug her own grave for her by doin' that."

"She wasn't dead," Daryl offered.

"But I  _thought_  she was. Thought I  _knew_  she was at the time, didn't even think of the possibility she might'a made it out and been runnin' through the woods of Georgia. I didn't give up on her because I didn't love her, Daryl. I gave up on her because I'd let my love for Glenn get in the way of  _saving_  her. And in the end, I ended up failing  _both_  of them, 'cause I never found either in that burnin' prison."

Tears spilled from her eyes and she looked up at him.

"I didn' have any faith left anymore."

Daryl summoned some strength and managed to lean forward in the chair. He rested against the bed on his arms and forced himself to look Maggie directly in the eye, no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel.

_Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith._

What good was faith in a world like this?

Apparently, all the good  _left_  in the world.  _Faith ain't done shit for us_. That wasn't entirely true... Sure it had taken away everything important, but at the end of the day, it was faith that had given them all that in the first place. They were all still alive because Hershel Greene had had the faith to believe in strangers and offer them sanctuary on his farm, all out of the good of his heart. And where had it gotten him? Murdered in cold blood on an open field infested by walkers? Yes... But faith had given him everything  _before_  that too.

It had given him a family, friends, the ability to somehow laugh in the fucking  _apocalypse_. Because he'd  _believed_ , and he'd taught Beth to believe. And she'd tried to make Daryl believe too… And now he did.

He did believe.

"When it comes t'havin' faith..." Daryl started, "It does ya good to not compare yourself to Beth. 'Cause no matter what ya do, or who you are…You're never gonna have as much faith an' hope in everything as  _her_."

 _What the hell is_ wrong _with you?_

"Thing about her... She gets under your skin, an' no matter what ya do, ya just can't seem to wiggle her out again.  _I_  let that happen when I was alone with her. I let her get inside my head."

_Do you feel anything?_

"An' trust me... She don't leave."

"…You've have more faith than I've had in my entire life," Maggie whispered, "You believe so strongly. How d'ya do that? What did she say to you?"

"Wasn' really what she  _said_..."

_Help me take her down. Don't you think that's beautiful? I'm gonna leave a thank you note._

_You got away from it._

_So you do still think there are still good people around._

She didn't even  _have_  to say anything; it was just in the things she did. The shine in her eyes. The way she talked.

The way she sang.

Beth Greene  _sang_. And boy, did those words resonate with your soul, open you up and make you see the notes floating around as her fingers danced across the piano keys.

 _I've known her nearly all my life, but compared to you... I feel like I hardly know her at all. What was she like? The Beth ya saw?... The Beth you_ see _?_

She was whoever she wanted to be.

And that was what made her, _her._

"Really she just screamed in my face an' forced me to follow her on some lame quest to find alcohol. It was stupid... 'Til I realised it actually wasn't that stupid after all."

_I know that you think this is stupid, and it probably is... But. I don't care._

"She told me that even though all we wanna do when we wake up is lay down an' cry, we don't get to do that."

"And we don't get to get upset." Maggie added, "We all got jobs to do."

"It was like she just  _got_  it, an' she was the last person I ever expected to do that. She snapped in my face a whole lot'a stuff that I just  _got_... An' it helped. It made me see."

_Beat up on walkers, if that makes you feel better._

_I need to do this._

"Tough sonofabitch gene runs in the family," he smirked, and Maggie smiled.

He looked down at Beth then and chewed on the inside of his cheek, and if she weren't asleep he knew she'd be smiling. Because that was what she did. He walked, and she smiled—it was just what they did. Until one day they both started doing both things.

_What changed your mind?_

_You know._

Daryl smiled an honest, genuine smile, that though small, was fucking real.

 _You're in love with her_.

.

.

At some point, Daryl fell asleep in the armchair beside Beth's bed, and when he awoke Maggie was gone. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but it was considerably darker than it had been before. And in Maggie's place on the wooden stool... Sat Dr Edwards, with a clean new lab coat on, beard trimmed, and cracked glasses fixed.

He was reading something on a clipboard, completely absorbed by whatever the hell it said, and apparently didn't realize Daryl was awake. So he coughed.

Edwards looked up and seemed sort of alarmed, before his expression settled into one of the norm.

"I didn't see you were awake,"

"Figured."

"Are you feeling okay?"

Daryl grunted in response and sat forward, groaning when his bones cracked at the movement.

Edwards regarded him for a moment more before shifting his focus to Beth, who was still asleep. He then picked up the pen and began writing on the clipboard, slow but sure finger movements of pen on paper.

"What're you writin'?"

"Just taking some notes on her condition. You know what I'm talking about."

Daryl scowled.

"What?"

Edwards stopped writing and looked up.

He studied Daryl for a while before his eyes widened ever so slightly, and he put down the pen.

"...You don't know… Do you?" he said finally.

"Know  _what_?"

His expression fell.

"She's unstable. Brain trauma. Happened when... Well you know when. Knocked her up. I did what I could, fixed her—mostly—but there were parts that weren't right, that I couldn't fix. Parts I couldn't make fit."

"Wait," Daryl stopped him, "The hell's all this coming from? She was fine. She..."

Unstable.

Brain trauma.

It felt like all this had been suddenly thrown into the mix, as if it had come out of fucking nowhere. Because Daryl had sensed  _no_  signs of mental instability during his time with her. None at all until recently…

Or maybe he just hadn't been playing close enough attention.

"It's quite rare for it to reach this extreme, well it would be in the normal world. But still it doesn't happen too much." he explained, "But basically... When things get too much, too extreme, and the adrenaline kicks in... She loses it."

"You're talkin' like she's some crazy person who needs lockin' up!"

"I can see you're very upset about this–"

" _Upset_!?" Daryl tried to stand but his legs lacked the energy, so he just kind of shifted awkwardly and toppled back into place. "Upset doesn't fuckin'  _cover_  it. You try'n'a tell me all this time, she's been one step away from flipping psycho? How is this the first I'm hearing of this!?"

_We didn't you tell me?_

"Would  _you_  tell someone you were one step away from falling off the edge, Daryl? How are you supposed to try explain that to someone?"

 _What the hell is_ wrong _with you?_

...He wouldn't say it explicitly.

How were you supposed to try? Daryl didn't know. But she  _was_  willing to try, he knew that. Even if she'd given up and lost that young hopefulness he saw shimmering under the surface, if she'd let the world start to spoil her… She was starting to try again.

And that was what he'd admired all along.

How she tried.

"...What am I supposed to do?"

Edwards's expression softened.

" _Try_."

.

.

It was late into the night when Beth finally woke up, and Daryl watched her eyelids flutter and glide open to reveal tired, bloodshot whites that were a fine contrast to the bright blue. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to moisten them, and she blinked several times before glancing around the room slowly. Eventually, her scarlet tinged eyes fell on him, and she tilted her head to the side to face him more comfortably.

"…Hey."

"Hi."

They stayed like that for a while, gaze fixed and pleasantly intimate, before Beth started to notice signs of unease in him.

"What is it?"

Daryl's head fell slightly to rest on his shoulder, and he chewed the inside of his cheek.

The reaction didn't suffice for Beth, and she lifted her head.

 _Unstable_.

"What?"

_Brain trauma._

"When were you gonna tell me?" he asked.

"About  _what_?"

"You know what."

Her brow creased deeply, crinkling the  _'W'_  sliced there menacingly, before her features grew into a state of realization…

"Edwards told you," she breathed quietly, "…Didn't he?"

Daryl nodded.

Dismay painted her features in a crestfallen state and she glanced downward before turning to face the ceiling. Daryl said nothing, and her irises flickered hurriedly.

She lifted a hand in the air and stared at her grubby fingers, watching the light burst through the gaps and shine down onto her face which adorned new scars she hadn't yet seen. The hand dropped finally and fell on her chest, and she began to fiddle with the white lace at the hem of the new shirt Carol had put her in whilst she slept. It was a defeated move, limp and almost pathetic, and her throat rose as she swallowed.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked, still not returning her gaze to him.

"What do you want me to say?"

She smiled a cruel, helpless smile.

"I don't know...  _I'm sorry_?  _Nothing's changed_. Some lame attempt at empathy."

She tilted her head back to face him, and it was then that he saw her eyes were brimming with tears.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Things were goin' well – got out, all your guys too, made a break for the safe zone."

"And what went wrong?"

He straightened with a pained grunt and gestured to the bandage visible through his open grey checked shirt. Beth's eyes widened and she carefully sat up, despite Daryl's warning her not to. She sat and leaned closer to stare at the bandage wound around his stomach, and reached out to ghost two fingers across the medical fabric.

The IV tube attaching her to the morphine bag coiled around her arm and stretched, sending the machine it was wired to off in tiny blurred blips. When it calmed, she trailed her fingers down the bandage and reached her other hand over to do the same.

Daryl watched her movements hypnotically, dainty hands once so soft and delicate now rough and worn. Coarse; bumpy; padded like paws.

"How…?"

"Shard of glass," he murmured, "You were takin' out one of 'em… I got in the way."

"That's a lie, isn't it?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek again and met her gaze, pang of ache rising at the sunset pink swirling around her blue suns. The  _'W'_  shared the same angry red glow, and for a moment it looked almost mocking to Daryl, like it was laughing at him. Snarling.

"What'd you want me to tell you? That you bit me as well?"

"It doesn't matter what I wanna hear.  _I_  did that to you, there's no changing that by sugar-coating."

"You weren't you, you weren't…"

She smiled forlornly. "What  _is_  'me' now? What's that even mean anymore?"

"I…"

"You don't know."

"That's not what I–"

"Then what then?"

Daryl's arms rose and his hands cupped her bruised cheeks, tenderly, yet firm. A gesture that said…  _I'm here. It's okay. You're okay,_ we're _okay. You're still you._

"You're  _you_ ," he said, one hand gripping her cheek as the other travelled down and cupped the back of her neck, "I ain't gonna say none of that other stuff doesn't matter, 'cause it does, but I don't care if you're some psychopath nut job like ya think you are… You're you. And nothin' you ever do is gonna make me see differently."

Her brow remained creased, expression perplexed. "Not even  _biting_  you?"

"Think I care for ya so little that you takin' a chomp out'a of me would make any difference?"

"Well… Yeah, to be honest."

_Just let me die already._

Daryl hadn't carried her all that way with a piece of glass rammed in his side and a burning in his muscles for her to just drop out on him, no matter how much he'd thought about it on the way carrying her. How light she was, how she almost weighed nothing. Just skin and bones, small, brittle. But she still felt so much like deadweight, loose and rickety in his hold, like she'd fall to pieces like a wooden puppet if he held her wrong, like the strings would cut out and break her into a million sharp shards of crimson wood.

"You're not a walker," he said, "Ya said it yourself: you ain't them. Ya ain't like us  _or_  the dead. You're just you, an' that might not be good enough for you, but it's good enough for me."

_I didn't give up on you 'cause I knew you was strong._

_I can't lose you again._

_…_ _You won't._


	15. Sing for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If something is broken, it means it can be fixed. Some things are easier to fix than others, like a grit-filled music box, but most things can be fixed if you try hard enough. And Daryl tries harder than anything, because fixing Beth is nowhere near the level of simplicity it took to fix the music box.  
> But he's still willing to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, on the last few chapters. I'm honestly so thankful for everything you guys have done to support me writing this, and every word I write is for you. Merry Christmas (soon), and I hope you enjoy our crawl towards the end. Don't forget to keep reviewing and giving me your thoughts. I love hearing from you, your opinions and emotions mean the world to me. So thank you.

Where did you look when Beth Greene went missing from her bed in the early hours of the morning?

Daryl had only closed his eyes for a second, and when he reopened them it had grown lighter and the bed in the sick bay was quite empty.

He woke with a start and staggered to his feet, the pain in his side dulled but still very much present. Cracking his knuckles, he made his way towards the door on weak legs and looked down both ends of the corridor. He had no idea which way Beth had gone, but he figured his wobbly legs would just carry him to her, wherever the heck she was.

 _Couldn't you find her again?_   _You're good at that_.

He was prepared to test that theory. So—doing the thing he knew how to do best—he kept on walking. Walking god knows where, in the hopes he would eventually stumble across the thing he was walking towards. Which happened a lot more than he'd thought about before actually. And eventually he came across a familiar sound that echoed gently throughout one of the streets in the safe zone, that turned his attention to one of the houses their group shared.

Unable to shake the feeling that he'd heard that precise sound before, he followed it and stepped inside.

The house was empty like he'd thought, everyone out and about their everyday duties, whatever they may be, and the familiar sound was very much what Daryl had thought it to be.

It was singing.

 _Beth's_  singing, like it could've been anyone else. It was coming from upstairs and blaring out softly through the baby monitor on the kitchen counter, so Daryl made the assumption that she must be in the room Judith's cot was in. He walked over to the mini radio and turned it off, and began the ascent up the stairs, floorboards creaking under his weight, but still the singing didn't stop.

Was there really anything that could stop her singing?

When he reached the top, the singing was more crisp and clear than before, and the sound of Judith making small gurgling sounds became audible. Daryl walked down the landing until he came to the door to the room Judith's cot was in, which was open ajar and gave him a look inside. He saw the owner of the voice as he leaned against the door frame then, seated on the wooden floorboards of the room with Judith on her lap, the baby's hands clasped tight in her own as melodies spilled from her lips. Her hands were covered in fresh plasters, and made painfully obvious in contrast to Judith's small unblemished skin, and she was still wearing the loose white fabric shirt and shorts she'd been wearing earlier that night. Her arms were patterned with small plasters, much like her face, and her voice came out in gentle hums of lyrical magnificence.

 _"You think that you're the sun,_  
_The whole world revolves around you._  
 _The center of attention,_  
 _And everything is drawn to you."_

Daryl listened to the song and allowed his eyes to drift closed for only a minute, and let himself be pushed back into a time so different and easier than this.

A time of pianos, and candles, and lying in caskets as the hours rolled by like dust balls in the desert, unaware of the time's ruthless passing. Where Beth would sing, and he would listen, and things would be good; if only for the short while they were granted permission, before the world stripped it away.

 _"But I'll take my time if you want to,_  
_And I'll give you whatever you need._  
 _And I'll wait a lifetime to give in to you,_  
 _Give in to you..."_

Judith noticed his presence and started to bounce around on Beth's lap, freeing her hands and clapping maniacally to alert her companion to his presence.

Beth turned, and the _'W'_ seemed to smile along with her; like not even the wolf within could remain screaming and feral before the sweet little Judy.

"Didn't know where you'd gone," he offered shabbily, "Panicked… Sorta."

"You thought I might'a taken off again?"

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and pressed his heel into the floor, only just then noticing that he'd walked all the way over here with his shirt still unfastened and his chest on show.

"No... Not that." he muttered.

"Then why did you panic?"

He looked at her through a curtain of hair and shrugged.

"Guess I thought it could've all just been a dream. Like I finally woke up, an' none of it'd been real."

"Did it feel real?"

"Pretty damn real, yeah."

"And you believed in it?"

Judith gurgled and grabbed her thumb.

"I  _relished_  in it, Beth."

"…Then it was probably real."

"Probably?"

"Probably."

"Not  _definitely_?"

She grinned.

"I guess it is kinda hard to forget sleeping with Daryl Dixon, to be fair."

Oh.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Smile wide on her face, the scar slashed up her cheek to widen it further, she resumed humming and bounced Judith on her lap. Daryl wanted to ask why no one else was here looking after the baby, but then he supposed that Carol had probably just been and gone as the evidence of a still warm oven tray had been left behind on the kitchen counter.

Beth resumed her singing as he remained standing in the doorway.

 _"But I'll take my time if you want to,_  
And I'll give you whatever you need.  
_And I'll wait a lifetime to give in to you,_  
 _Give in to you... Ooooh."_

Daryl glanced at the floor.

_"I would wait a lifetime,"_

In this environment, she was still her.

_"And I would wait for you,"_

She wasn't an animal, or a killer, or fucked up. She was her. So why was it so hard to get a couple of measly words out to her?

_"I would wait a lifetime..."_

It was only a couple, heck even just  _one_  of them would suffice.

_"And I would wait for-"_

"You."

The word tumbled out faster than he'd liked, and for a moment he was unsure if she'd actually heard it.

But she did, because she stopped singing and turned back to look at him.

Her expression was curious, unreadable, and Daryl fidgeted.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"Uh."

She pulled Judith further into her lap and cuddled the baby, almost like someone would a stuffed animal, Judith offering no protest and simply snuggling into the warmth and giggling as she fisted her hand into the thin cotton.

"Daryl... Say that again."

_So._

_What changed your mind?_

_…_ _You know._

He exhaled and smiled discretely.

"Don't ya know?"

Her eyes glittered and the  _'W'_ softened in tune with the rest of her features.

" _Daryl_." she said firmly,  _probing_.

_What changed your mind?_

You _._

_I want you, I need you. I'm sorry._

_It was_ you _that did it._

"Come find me later," was all he stuttered out, "I got watch duty in the tower tonight… Meet me there."

"I... Okay."

_Say that again._

On the bright side, he'd finally fucking said it. But on the down side... She wanted him to say it again. Because she'd definitely heard him say it the first time, that he knew for  _certain_.

He just had to grow the balls to repeat the damn thing.

.

.

It was dark by the time Beth came up to the watch tower outside the wall, and Daryl had been wondering how the days seemed to pass by like book days – fast and irrelevant details or occurrences being conveniently skipped from the narrative.

He was stood in the highest room in the tallest tower like some fucking princess, and a gentle creak of the floorboards alerted him to her presence.

He turned and saw her standing there in the doorway, similar to how he was earlier, and she let her head tilt back and rest on her bare shoulder. She was still wearing the same clothes as before, seemingly not bothered enough to change; quite like him actually. But she did look cleaner, as if she'd made use of the showers the safe zone offered. The notion seemed in vain though if she'd just gone and put the same dirty clothes on again.

"Got a couple of weird looks out there," she said, "Probably the scars."

"Not the way you're dressed?"

"I was wearing a coat out there, silly. It's too cold to parade around just like this, and I don't think many people would like to see how beat up an' mangled I  _really_  am. They just saw the ones on my face."

The scars.

 _Covering_  them.

"Then where's this coat now?"

"I left it down at the bottom of this place."

"Why?"

She bit her lip and looked down, suddenly a lot more aware of how exposed she was, and covered one of the long scrapes on her upper arm.

"I guess… I don't feel uncomfortable having them out around you."

 _You don't know what it's like 'til you got some o' your own, baby brother._ Merle commented,  _'Til the world lashes out and slaps the crap out'a ya… You don't know._

"Because I know you're the last person who would ever judge me, or pity me, for these. Because really you're the only person who understands. You always have been."

" _I'm_  the one who always understands? I think that's you, Beth."

She laughed faintly and shook her head. "Me? No… I try to be that person; I try to be the good girl who smiles for everybody, but it's not who I am."

"How d'ya know that?"

Her face broke out into a teary smile.

"Because how am I ever supposed to understand anyone… if they don't  _me_?"

_No one ever really listened to anything I said properly._

"They don't see me, Daryl."

_I don't think they really cared about what I had to say… I was just a child._

"I try, but I can't make them see me. And no matter how hard I try, or understand them… I can never change that."

_Everybody just kinda dismissed it and carried on._

"You can't always change everything."

Daryl met her gaze directly, and she sucked in a sharp intake of breath at the intensity that must have been flickering away in his eyes like a flame.

Like candlelight that would only last a song, but one song was more than enough.

"I see ya,"

She let out a cloud of warm breath.

" _I_  see you."

_I ain't like everybody._

Wasting no time, and actions completely sure, Daryl strode over to her and planted his hands on her hips to pull her flush against him. She let off another quick puff of breath at the action, and placed her hands on his bare chest to steady herself.

Her fingers traced the lumpy pink scar slashed along his collarbone, and her lips quivered like leaves. Her eyes followed her fingers as she trailed them along the marred flesh that was visible, and her eyes grew teary at the crisp criss-cross scar above his breast. She looked up at him then, and there was so much glimmering away in those puffy pink eyes. So much sorrow, and pain, and fondness. And Daryl was sure his own eyes were like a mirror to hers, a mirror, like he'd been trying to be of  _her_  in her absence.

 _What would Beth do?_ he found himself frequently wondering in the face of dilemma?  _How would Beth feel? What was_ right _?_

And he kissed her.

_I want you. I need you._

Breath hot and shuddery, she returned the action and wriggled against him, and to an onlooker it might look as if she was trying to get away, but really she was just trying to be as close as possible. Daryl did the same.

She lifted her shirt to reveal herself to him, breasts bared and back arched like a bowstring. Daryl's own shirt was off along with hers, the movement fluid and unrushed, despite the lust-filled haze that had fallen. He stripped the upper half surely and pulled his arms from the sleeves, before letting it fall to the floor at his feet. Every scar was on show, every slash, every whip. White risen lines that had long scabbed over and set permanent. Markings, criss-cross prints, and the wrapping around his waist concealed yet another mark, only this one the first to  _not_  be made by his dad, or one of his own arrows, or Andrea's shitty shooting.

This one was made by Beth, as was the bite mark on his neck.

A walker bite, Edwards and Rick had worried it was at first, but were less relieved to find who it was  _really_  made by.

Beth's brow creased painfully and she lifted a finger to run along the thick gash along his collarbone. A gash so similar to the ones on her own face, sharp and crisp in the dark. And the  _'W'_  once again gave a mischievous red flash, and Daryl was sure the criss-cross  _'X'_  on his shoulder was be winking in response.

How fitting that  _W_  and  _X_  should be seated next to each other in the alphabet.

"I'm sorry, Beth." he whispered.

And like she always did... She knew what he meant, and this time she didn't ask him to vocalise it.

He curled his hand around the wrist of the hand that was stroking his scar and ran his thumb along the pale pink line he couldn't see in the dark of the room, but knew was there. The line he mocked, tormented her for, insulted her right to life because of it.

_I sure as hell never cut my wrists lookin' for attention!_

"I'm  _so_  sorry,"

_I didn't do it with a knife to the vein, at least._

Because external or internal, everybody had demons hiding under the covers. Everybody had monsters in their closets, creatures crawling under the surface and waiting to leap out and wreak havoc.

Everybody had scars.

She stifled a sob and pushed her lips to his chin messily, and whispered: "I'm sorry too."

 _I'm sorry_ , lips moving against his jaw,  _Sorry for the pain I caused,_   _Sorry for the dream I gave you that I then stubbed out by dying._   _I'm sorry for making you believe and then feeling like you wasted your time finally lettin' yourself believe._

_It's ok._

_My_ god _, it's ok, Beth._

She squeezed her fingers into his hair and held him to her neck, kissing along his jaw and cheeks desperately.

_I'm sorry for losing hope._

Funny thing about hope though, like Hershel said to him once, is that it breeds a kind of magic. Opens your mind to wonders. To the belief that wonders can bleed into reality. And whilst Hershel had told him the dream, it was Beth who'd  _shown_  it to him.

"It's you," she whispered, "It's you, Daryl. It's always been you. How could you not  _know_  that?"

_You, You, Only you._

_You silly man, how could you not know?_

"I love you."

So simple.

So confusingly easy.

So why was it so fucking  _hard_?

 _Oh, Beth. How could_ you _not know? Not know that all this time, after everything we've been through... It's been you that got me through it all._

_All the pain, all the heartbreak, all the death. You got me through._

You _did that._

He trembled and let off little pathetic gasps that sounded something akin to words, but not even he understood what they were.

"If you can't tell me..." she breathed, fingers intertwining with his on her thigh, "Then  _show_  me."

_Show me like I showed you._

_Show me you can dream, that you can hope, that you want to live._   _Show me you're not afraid._

_I love you._

_._

_._

Daryl wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but when he woke again later it was still dark out.

He was sprawled out on the blankets on the floor, Beth beside him, and he was surprised to found his head wasn't pounding like it usually was when he would wake up. He wasn't even freaking out as Beth cuddled closer to him and made a funny yet cute sound with her lips. Her cheek was laid against his bare chest, flesh cool and no frantic heat spreading to his cheeks like usual.

Instead, he was completely calm.

The layer of calmness settled and remained, and Daryl felt so calm that he tightened his palm where it rested on Beth's hip and gently tugged her closer to him.

Still asleep, he felt her smiling against his side and she slung a leg over his pelvis, nose tucked into his neck and lightly nuzzling.

"…Love you..."

There it was again. That soft little whisper.

Once she'd said it the first time, she hadn't stopped saying it. Before the sex... During the sex... And after the sex. Well, he said sex, but really it felt a lot more intimate than that. Like being in a dream, like  _she_  was a dream.

_If you can't tell me, show me._

Daryl parted his cracked lips and tilted his head down to look at her. He rubbed his thumb in circles at her hip and felt her sigh sweetly into his neck, sleep still fully claiming her. Her lashes fluttered, thick and dark, and her head rolled onto the side as she released a sleepy yawn.

_Love you._

_I love you._

He leaned down and planted an open-mouthed kiss to her blonde crown, other arm coming up and snaking around her waist to hold her close. Her hands were sandwiched between their bodies and planted loosely on his collar, fingers brushing the stubbly bone there. If she was awake she'd be able to feel how hard he was, but unlike before, it wasn't painful. Wasn't a throbbing pain that scorched through the air. Just a low burning that reminded him that burning was all she ever did.

_Let's burn it down, burn it all 'til there's nothing left. Let it all blow away like dust on a breeze, and wait for the smoke to cover our trail._

"I'll tell you," he whispered, "I will... Soon."

 _I promise_ —mouthed into her hair— _I promise I'll tell you, When I can._

Beth shifted.

"Okay,"

Maybe not so much asleep after all.

Daryl removed his face from her hair and felt her move more purposely, and crawl onto him so she was sort of straddling him.

Her hands moved up his upper torso and fastened fingers at the back of his neck. She lifted her head then, eyes open now, and rested her chin on his stomach.

"Hey," she smiled.

He found himself smiling in turn and ran his hand up the back of her waist.

"Hi."

Her head rolled sideward and she pressed her cheek to his chest again. They stayed like that for a while, the air relaxed and fire flickering away gently in her azure greys. Daryl's hand stroked the length of her back, then moved down to cup the flesh of her ass. There was nothing exactly sexual about the gesture, despite the situation and how completely fucking naked they were. He just touched her like that because he could. Because for some weird, crazy, maybe a little mad, reason... She let him.

And she'd said she loved him.

She'd said she loved him, and whatever Beth said was always true.

"That was nice..." she said contentedly, hands coming down to strum her fingertips against his chest gently.

He couldn't help the stupid grin that came over his face.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

One hand still cupping her ass, kneading the softness casually, the other moved to close over one of hers. She smiled wider when he brought the hand up and brought his lips to the back of it, kissing each knuckle and letting her ghost two fingers across his chin.

"You know what I used to think the first time I saw you?" she asked randomly, propping herself up with an elbow.

He rose a brow. "What?"

"Well after I got relatively to terms with the world being half-over, and after all these hot men ended up on our farm–"

"Hot men?"

"Yeah!"

Daryl started to laugh.

"Why're you laughing?"

"Who were these 'hot men' then, huh?"

She started laughing too, and let her head fall down onto him when she did.

"Don't you know?" she said, "Rick... Shane was kinda nice... You..."

"D'you just say me?" he smirked.

" _Yeah_  I said you."

"Actually scratch that, d'you just say  _Shane_?"

She erupted into a fit of giggles and fell onto him more, fingers still woven through his. Daryl felt himself laughing along with her, his laughs coming out in low throaty chuckles, and he could feel Beth's laughter warm on his chest.

She wasn't an animal, or a killer, or fucked up.

She was her.

"I guess I really am screwed up in the head." she breathed with a harsh smile.

She hadn't said it bleakly, or meaning to be severe, but still it made a pang of unease raise in Daryl's chest.

Unstable.

Brain trauma.

_What is 'me' now?_

"You're not... Screwed up in t'head, I mean."

Beth's smile turned lonely, and she cocked her head to the side.

"But I am, Daryl... I am screwed up."

Daryl pulled himself and Beth up and held her on his lap. His hands were still planted firmly on her sides, and hers were on his shoulders gently. He could feel the heat of her as she straddled him, seeping onto his thighs and filling him with warmth.

Her fingers were stroking the scar again, almost unconsciously, but Daryl knew that Beth never did anything unintentionally.

He leaned forward and looked up directly at her, the position and her being sat on him making them at the same eye-level, and met her gaze.

"I see you,"

Unstable.

"I always see ya."

Brain trauma.

"…Who  _ain't_  fucked up in this world now?" he gasped through a near sob, which surprised him because he hadn't been aware he was about to cry.

Beth cupped his cheeks and stroked his jaw with her thumbs, eventually travelling to his lower lip, scruff scratching her wrist as she did. Daryl leaned into one of the palms and let out a shuddery breath. She then leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, several strands of blonde hair falling forward and tickling his neck.

"Thank you," she breathed, and Daryl was reminded of those exact words said to him by her sister.

_Thank you. Daryl. Thank you._

His eyes drifted closed as her lips pressed to his nose once again, and moved all the way up the bridge of it to his brow, where she kissed right in the middle of his forehead. His uncharred forehead, without the sinister letter.

Pushing the thought to the very back of his head, Daryl grasped her hips and tugged her forward so her sex dragged against his and she cried out a strangled gasp. She laid her head down on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. She clamped her thighs around his waist and locked her heels together, before pushing down and rocking her hips against his in a circular manner. The action drew a moan from him, and he bucked up and created a friction. Beth's hardened nipples touched his collar and he directed her hips in a direct form of movement.

Intending to engage in further foreplay, Beth seemed to have other ideas.  _It's the end of the world_ , he heard her whisper into his neck.

"No," he shook his head, "It's not. It's not the end."

" _How_  is it not?"

"'Cause it ain't too far gone."

_It can still be saved._

_We all can._

Head still tucked into his shoulder, she reached a hand down and took him her hand, giving the length a slow stroke before guiding him up to brush the slick entrance between her legs. She hissed when taking him in, lowering herself down as slowly as possible, and her head rose and tilted back to expose the scraped up column of her neck. Daryl leaned in and trailed his lips along it, tongue darting out to lap at small beads of diamond sweat that built there. At some point he started using his teeth, dragging them along the pulse point in her neck, and nibbling ever so lightly. She rocked her hips and sent a wave of ecstasy through his body, causing him to bite down harder on the side of her neck.

He worried he might've drawn blood at first, but the cry of pleasure she gave at it told otherwise. When he started to pull away, she shoved a hand into his hair and pushed him back into her neck again, holding him there in the desire for him to repeat the action. Like he was some fucking vampire. She'd probably been into that Cullen prick at some point.

But he decided to give in to her with this, and returned to nipping her neck with his teeth.

Beth sighed and tipped her head back to allow him easier access, and for a moment it really did feel like some kind of vampire romance fantasy story. Some silly cliché love story about a teenager and a man far too old for her. A sci-fi adventure of true fucking horror, that still managed to squeeze a little bit of emotion in there too like all Hollywood blockbusters did.

Like a damn romance novel after all.

Beth moaned when he caught a lump of flesh between his teeth and pulled, releasing it with a silent slap, and she shivered against him. The blankets were soft pooled around his thighs, and he reached up and pushed a bundle of short hair over her shoulder to make holding her neck easier. She thrust down to meet his hips, his dick still buried deep inside her, and he caught her lips roughly. He bit them with his teeth similar to how he'd been biting her neck, and shoved his tongue deep into her open mouth to lap around against hers. Each thrust drew a moan from her, all which he swallowed with a frantic wet kiss, and she clung to him for dear life. He fastened his hands beneath her thighs to control her movements, and hers came down to clasp over his and encourage him. He withdrew from kissing her temporarily, and she threw her head back in bliss at one particular strong thrust.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed out through the silence along with their unified moans like music. Like a song of no beginning and no end.

 _It used to play music,_  he'd heard Carl say about that music box.

_It's broken._

Carl had been right about it being broken, because it really was; cogs rusty and awkward, and gearbox filled with stone grit. A lost cause, maybe. Unsalvageable. But there was one think Carl was wrong about, because even though it was broken...

It could still sing.

"Ooh..." Beth panted against his jaw, "That's- _ah!_ -nice... So nice."

Daryl chuckled, but it came out sounding more like a low groan, and he moved Beth's hips so her pussy stroked him in just the right way; squeezing and spreading, moaning and groaning.

" _Mmh_ , Daryl..."

And he looked her right in the eye, holding her to him with his hips grinding away, cock buried high up in her cunt, and her whole body shuddered as she reached orgasm with a breathy trail of moans.

"... _Oh_...!"

Her head tilted back so she was exposing her throat again, and she gave several more fluid movements with his penis still held deep inside her, and rode out the wave of her euphoria.

_Daryl... Oh God, Daryl, My Daryl... So good, So nice, Ah..._

Daryl slowed his movements and pressed his lips to the middle of her throat, licking the space leisurely as she continued to whisper into his ear.

" _Oohh_... Don't stop,"

He didn't.

He lifted her up by her thighs and pulled himself free, making an expression of dismay settle on her features momentarily, before setting her down on her back before him. He crawled closer and put his hands back on her hips, pulling her in and pressing his head into her dripping slit, her eyes never leaving him as he did. He pushed into her then and she cried out in blissful relief at the familiar sensation.

She reached her second orgasm in no time, and was on the brink of a third before Daryl pulled out again and threw her over onto her stomach.

She gasped at the roughness she hit the cushioned ground with, and moaned with frustration as he reluctantly stroked her slick folds from behind with his fingers. She was laid in front of him like an animal in mating season — ass held high in the air waiting to be fucked. Her lower lips were pink and swollen from where he could see them, and he slid a finger in ever so slowly, drawing another sound of pleasure and frustration out of her.

"Daryl," she whined, shoving her face into the blankets, and rubbing her ass against him to generate that much needed friction, "Come on...  _Please_ ,"

"What is it ya want?"

The gruff voice was back, Daryl's body gone rugged and sombre.

Beth looked back at him over her shoulder and her eyes were filled with a certain gleam.  _Delight_ , he recognised. This thing they did delighted her. She fucking loved it, and it would be an understatement to say Daryl kind of loved it too.

"Did y'hear?" he asked harshly, fingers teasing her ingress cruelly, "What d'ya want?"

She whimpered.

"You..."

"Hm?"

"I want you... You know that's what I- _oh_ -Daryl, please."

"Been a good little wolf?"

She laughed breathlessly at that and gripped the white sheets with her fingers.

"Somethin' funny?"

She muffled a laugh. "Um… No..."

Daryl was no idiot. He was struggling to resist grinning too. But if he gave in, he ruined the little game they were playing, whatever the hell it was.

The little wolf and the alpha — not always clear which role was played by who.

But it worked. And they loved it.

Beth rolled her head sideways, nuzzling the sheets, and moaned softly when Daryl leaned down and pressed his lips to the centre of her lower back. He trailed his lips along the area and across a long scabbed scrape at the base of her spine. Kissing upward, he planted gentle wet smooches up to her shoulder-blades and along the back of her neck. He reached up and pushed a bundle of hair out of the way, and planted one firm lingering kiss just below where it joined to her head. His other hand moved to stroke forcefully along the length of her pussy, drawing a heavier moan and making her arch her back so her ass was pushed against him.

And then Daryl took her like an animal.

The last thing he remembered before something crashed into the base of the tower, and sent it crashing to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn't see that coming ;)


	16. Rest in peace, now get up and go to war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing good lasts forever, that's something Daryl has come to accept by now. But is it really the value of the sanctuary that makes it good? Or is it in the people you choose to make it a home with? These people are Daryl's family, and they are good. No matter how many awful things they've had to do to keep themselves running. Because family don't let each other die.

The air was dusty, bits of coarse debris floating around, and the room had turned sideways because of the randomist fall of the fucking century. Daryl dragged himself up, ignoring the excruciating pain in his head and wounded side, along with a new pain in his leg. There was a wooden plank crushing said leg, and he shoved it away pathetically, before blinking rapidly to register what the fuck had just _happened_.

He'd been fucking Beth, having the time of his life, when suddenly chaos had fallen. Quite literally, since the _tower_ seemed to have fallen, though Daryl had honestly no clue how that could've happened.

Walkers were strong when they piled together, but they weren't _that_ strong.

He staggered to stand, wobbling a bit on his feet, and searched for Beth amongst the wreckage. He found her beneath a pretty big slab of wood, apparently knocked out before he tried to move the object and her eyelids fluttered open. She looked up at him weakly, expression distant and turning to one of anguish when she realized her unfortunate position. Daryl reached under the plank and heaved it up slowly, waiting for her to scramble out. His ears were ringing and a familiar wetness emerged in his side where Beth had struck him with the glass. Ignoring it, he heaved the plank up higher to allow for her to crawl out fully.

They were both still stark naked. A little unfortunate considering the situation, so Daryl fumbled around where he saw the sheets and wrapped her up in them, clothing her in a sort of makeshift dress. He found his trousers—no shirt to be seen—and hauled them on, joints agonisingly painful, and then shoved his feet into his boots. Beth was trembling on the floor, the blanket wrapped around her thin frame, and floating dust settling in the scrapes across her body. She was pulling on her boots, apparently having recovered from the blow of the debris and the fucking tower _collapsing_ with them still inside it.

She tightened the blanket around her and stood up.

"What the heck… just happened?"

"No clue. But _somethin'_ sent the tower down."

She went silent all of a sudden and stilled. Daryl thought she might be more gravely injured than she seemed, but she spoke up again eventually, in a low whisper.

"…Do you hear that?"

Daryl strained his ringing ears and listened. To the silence, the dark… And the other noises.

Snarling.

Groans. Growls. Shuffling. Shrill whines that pierced the dusty air and sent a chill running through his battered body, and his heart sank.

There were walkers outside, and from the sounds of them…

A lot.

" _Beth_." he hissed.

She looked at him and bit her lip.

He stared at her firmly with a resolute expression, and pressed his mouth in a firm line.

"We need t'get out'a here."

_We gotta go._

"Yeah."

He reached out his hand and she took it, and they made their way over to an exit of the sideways tower. A doorway was a lot harder to get through when it was turned at a ninety-degree angle, and he and Beth had to crawl up and over the banister and along the wall (which was now technically the floor). As they crawled along past a broken grandfather clock, Daryl was reminded of another similar crawling situation, back when it was just the two of them venturing down into the depths of the hellish country club. This was a lot worse though, since there were walkers outside, they were both beat up and mangled, the building had literally just collapsed, and they were also half naked.

Not the best of situations he'd ever been in.

Beth crawled quickly in front of him, and at some point she swayed and fell forward, and skinned her knees on the broken wood. She groaned in pain and clumsily toppled down the stairs, Daryl leaping down after. They hit the floor harshly, her on her stomach and him on his back, and laid with the wind knocked out of them.

Daryl coughed up a pocket of blood and nearly choked on it, the clumpy red trickling down his cheeks and chin. Beth made a small whimpering sound and grunted. He turned his head groggily and met her swollen gaze.

She was laid with her cheek pressed into the ground, shards of glass from the windows shattered around her, which had torn open the stitched gash on her cheek, and thick blood oozed out and down her face to where it pooled, dying the glass scarlet. She lifted a hand, tiny diamond shards embedded in it, and brushed his shoulder with her fingers, and her eyes glittered with a dull sense of hopelessness. A look that said:

_This is it_. _This is the end_. _Our end_.

_Come lay in the lawn with me and close your eyes, and we'll drift away like dust on the breeze. It'll be good; and it'll end._

_Let me die already._

Daryl was overcome with the desire to save her, no matter how much she wanted to give up, so he heaved himself up to his knees. He shoved the shattered glass out of the way, several cutting up his arm and sending jolts of new pain throughout his body, but he didn't stop. Beth made a choked sound that sounded like a cry of protest, and he wrapped his hand around he nape of her neck, lifting her beaten head up.

"We ain't dead yet," he grunted, fondling her neck, "We ain't, so don't act like it. C'mon, we can get out'a this."

Her lips trembled.

"Not this, Daryl… Not _this_."

" _Yes_ this. Wouldn't kill ya t'have a little faith."

_Faith ain't done shit for us._

"Faith's the best thing that ever happened to me. Believin' was the best thing I chose to do. You taught me to do that, you _saved_ me, an' I'll be damned if I let ya ever stop doin' it. So suck it up an' let me save _you_."

He might have imagined it, but it looked like her eyes had grown the tiniest bit lighter from hearing that, and the despairing look seemed to be melting away like ice in a furnace.

She closed her palm over his at her neck and groaned, and allowed him to pull her up. She fell against him limply, whole body shaking and mashed. He wound his cut up arms around her and pushed his face into her dirty blonde crown, and closed his eyes. Sat in the dark, blocked out the noises, ignored the wounds and blood flow, and felt her ragged breathing on his chest.

"Hold on," he whispered.

_My girl, My wolf, My Beth…_

_Hold on._

She sniffled, "What're we waitin' for?"

"I dunno… But whatever it is, it'll be along soon."

_Whatever it is._

She sniffed again and slid her arms around his waist to squeeze gently, and they just sat like that and waited. For what? Who the fuck knew. But they were still waiting.

_You told me to believe, to hold on, and I am._

_I'm holding on._

.

.

At some point the walkers' snarls quietened and grew more distant, as if they were further away, and Daryl and Beth were still laying low in the fallen watch tower. He'd spotted her underwear and his shirt amongst the broken glass and wood, and slid her arms into it so that it offered her more decency than the blanket, which he'd ripped up and used to crappily bind their wounds. She was in a sort of daze – a half conscious, half dozing, trance. Daryl held her to him and sat with his head resting on her shoulder, and if not for her uneven breathing he might have thought she was asleep. But she was still very much aware of her surroundings, despite her condition.

There was no time to be oblivious, the risk was too high, you had to always be attentive. That was something she'd learned from him.

Finally, and for reasons he didn't know why… He started to hum.

It wasn't very good, melody sucking and notes sounding shit due to his throat being impossibly dry, but he still did it.

Beth shifted onto her other cheek and laced her fingers together behind him, and she sighed into him. Daryl rubbed a hand up and down her back, and hummed quietly into her ear through cracked lips. And the tune he was humming, of course, was the last tune he thought he might ever hear spill from her lips.

Warmth, candlelight, a piano, a casket, and a cupboard of pig's feet and jelly.

Her last song. Her last breath. The last dream.

And then… The thing they'd been waiting for came.

_Something happened._

The thing they hadn't known what it was, had come.

_Something… Good._

_Finally._

Shouting, frantic movements, _words_ … All things walkers weren't capable of. Beth shifted against him and tilted her head, and Daryl stretched upward.

_Voices_ , running, breaking wood, clambering closer... And Abraham came crawling through the rubble to where they sat. He regarded them with wide, yet relieved, eyes, and shook his head in breathless anticipation.

"Mother _dick_. It's you."

Daryl coughed and Abraham came to help him. He pulled Beth up and supported her against him, before offering a hand to Daryl.

"Wolf asswipes crashed their truck into the tower an' sent it crashing down onto the wall, so a ton of walkers strolled right in." he explained, "Come on,"

Daryl's brow creased as he stared at the outstretched hand, and Abraham shook his head in disbelief. Beth looked down and clung to the giant of a man weakly.

Her expression practically _begged_ him to take the hand, and she nodded.

Abraham glanced down at Beth before returning his focus to Daryl again, and shoving his hand closer.

"I get you're pissed about what went down before, an I'm sorry. But it ain't gonna happen again. I ain't gonna _leave_ her again, man."

_She's gone, man! Just leave her!_

"Not again,"

_She's gone, Daryl!_

"An' I ain't gonna leave _you_ either! You stubborn son-of-a-bitch!"

He grabbed Daryl by the arm and held him to him with Beth, before clambering out the way he came and out into the sunlight…

Daryl's vision took a moment to readjust to the brightness, and he toppled into Abraham on his weak knees. When it did, he saw Maggie, Glenn and Michonne slicing their weapons into walkers' heads. They spotted the trio and came running towards them, Maggie gasping out of panic and relief at the sight of her sister, and she put her knife away to take Beth from Abraham.

She held her by the waist and draped Beth's arm over her shoulders, steadying her and keeping her upright. She turned to Daryl and shot him a look of gratitude yet again, but instead of looking away awkwardly, he nodded.

They were on the edge of the herd, most of the walkers ploughing through the safe zone, and the screams of the inhabitants tore through Daryl's eardrums.

He watched flames rise from the heart of the community and engulf the central buildings, as Abraham helped him along following Michonne's lead. Always flames, eating away and turning the buildings to dust. Always flames, almost in the shape of a giant wolf's head, eating everything in its path. Hunger never quenched.

"Where's Rick!?" Glenn yelled over the sound of his knife sinking into a walker's brain with a wet slushing sound.

"He went back to fetch Deanna an' Jessie's family!" Abraham shouted back in response, "I told 'im it was stupid but he didn't listen!"

"What about the others?" Maggie asked desperately, jogging with Beth limping quickly at her side.

"Rosita and Sasha took Carl and Judith, Eugene too! Last I saw of Tara she was try'na get as many of the safe zone people out."

"Carol went after some of the Wolves," Michonne piped up as she slashed two walker's heads off with her katana.

"What about Aaron an' Eric?" Daryl grunted.

"Edwards!?" Beth choked, "What about-"

"We don't know for sure where _everyone_ is," Abraham replied, "The tower came down unexpectedly so we didn't really have time to do a tally of assembly! We'll find out when we regroup!"

" _If_ we regroup." Beth added before breaking out into a coughing fit, and almost falling onto Maggie.

_We can get out'a this._

_Not this._

_Have a little faith._

.

.

They ran for what must have been hours, the walker numbers gradually decreasing with every kilometre, and eventually Daryl could no longer feel his body so it was a good thing Abe was there to hold him up. Beth had fallen unconscious due to blood loss, so Glenn was now running with her thrown over his shoulder, Maggie cutting their way through the dead along with Michonne. There'd been no sign of anyone else for ages, and Daryl was actually starting to doubt they would ever see them again, and consider the possibility that they might be dead. They might be alive _now_ , but give a few more hours caught in that herd and they wouldn't stand a chance.

_They're alive!_

That's what the Beth in his head kept telling him – the one that was still running through the woods after their family, always running, never giving into the despair he was wallowing in... Always singing.

_I'm holding on._

And it wasn't in vain, because long after they'd passed the herd and run through the woods and over creeks…

They found Carol.

She stared at them with disbelief, before dropping her gun and bounding into Michonne's open arms. She squeezed the woman tight and smiled into her shoulder, Michonne and Maggie sharing the awe-inspiring smile. Even Daryl felt a small grin creeping onto his bruised and scraped face, as he stepped away from Abraham and limped over to where Carol and Maggie were now embracing.

She looked up at him with the warmest of smiles and held out her arms when Maggie released her, for him to walk into. He hugged Carol and swallowed a sob, and felt her rubbing a hand up and down his right shoulder blade.

_Faith ain't done shit for us._

What a fucking lie.

"Are you alone?" Abraham asked her.

Carol released Daryl and shook her head.

"I found Rosita and Sasha with Carl just outside the walls. They're a bit further on."

"What about Judith?" Glenn breathed, and Daryl felt his heart miss a beat at Carol's failure to mention the little baby as a part of the group.

Carol's brow trembled and she opened her mouth to speak… But no words came out.

_What about Judith? What about_ her _?_

"I… I-She…"

"…No."

Daryl stood back.

_No_.

"We don't know where she is!" Carol blurted, "Ron ambushed Carl and took him out, and the he took Judith with him! We found him but… He was dead! And she wasn't anywhere. We don't know where she-"

"Judy's _gone_?"

They turned to find Beth awake and being put down by Glenn, where she staggered to a standing position. She wobbled on her feet and put a hand on Glenn's shoulder, and looked at Carol with eyes filled with tears.

She shook her head and wobbled again.

"You're… You're not…"

Carol bit down on her lip.

The tears tripled in Beth's eyes and began to spill down her cheeks in thick, hot drops.

She removed her hand from Glenn's shoulder and brought both up to cup her mouth. Her head hadn't stopped shaking, and her shoulders were shivering as she slowly sunk down to her knees on the leafy ground.

Maggie ran towards her but Daryl held her back, and her fearsome struggles against his weak legs forced them both to the ground as well.

Tears were streaming down Beth's cheeks and she started to sob, whispering dreadfully, over and _over_ again…

_No… No, No, Nonono…_

Her hands moved up from her mouth to sink into her hair, and she pressed against her temples and rocked forward, eyes rolling and seeping with wet. She didn't stop sobbing or whispering, and Maggie fought against Daryl's tight hold to get to her sister.

She shot Glenn a desperate look, but the look Daryl gave him overpowered it.

"Go to t'others," he said, "I can take care of this."

" _No_! Glenn-"

" _Go_."

Glenn swallowed and ran to Michonne, who tapped Abraham and urged him to follow Carol as well. Carol gave Daryl a meaningful look before turning to walk, which he returned.

When they were gone, Maggie thrashed harder against him and screamed in rage and frustration.

"Jesus, _Daryl_ , let _go_ of me!" she screeched, and punched his arm hard.

Beth had her hands fisted into her own hair and had bent forward so far that her cheek was pressed into the muddy leaves. She was making similar sounds of distress to Maggie, only hers were way more defeated and resembling whimpers.

_Whining_ , like a beaten dog.

_Little wolf_.

"Let me go to her! Why are you holdin' me back!? Why are you…!?"

Beth jolted forcefully and gave a loud, long whine that Maggie mirrored.

She elbowed him in the stomach suddenly, forcing his arms from around her, and she leapt over to where Beth was knelt crying hysterically. Daryl fell onto his stomach, holding his scabby bleeding side, and reached out pathetically to stop her.

Maggie fell before her sister and forced her head up, and the tears spilled onto her hands like scalding waves. Beth's eyes were huge and spooked, and she was biting her lip so hard that she'd drawn blood. Maggie held the sides of her head firmly and began shedding tears of her own. Beth curled a hand around Maggie's wrist and squeezed tightly, fingernails scraping the flesh, but Maggie ignored the assault. She stared into her eyes defiantly, tears dripping down the both of their cheeks, and Beth's thrashing slowly began to cease…

Daryl watched with enthralment as the sisters sat crying in the leaves, sharing some quiet stratum of understanding, and eventually Beth's eyes glazed over and she clenched her teeth together.

She started to cry harder, but the sobs were quieter, and Maggie threw her arms around her and pulled her in.

From where he was laid in the mud, Daryl could hear Maggie's soft whispers.

"You're alive, you're here, you're not dead. We're both still here, an' as long as we are, ya can't just check out on me. Even if I did the same to you for a while. But I'm here now, I'm here. Magpie's here, Bethy."

Beth's sobbing intensified and she breathed heavy gasps and hiccups into her sister's shoulder, and Maggie just held her tighter.

"What was it that Daddy said? He said we all got jobs to do, all of us, an' you can't just abandon that because you're scared. I'm scared too, _I_ don't wanna be gutted, but checking out is _not_ the answer… You don't wanna go. Not really."

Maggie sniffed and looked up at the light seeping through the branches, and her voice trembled.

"Think about what Daddy would think if he could see us now, what he'd _say_ … Think about Daddy…"

"Umh…" Beth cried dreadfully, "…D… _Daddy_!"

Daryl watched the Greene sisters crying together in the leaves, and felt a spot of wet fall on the bridge of his nose. He looked up at the stretch of sky visible through the trees, and watched a flock of birds fly overhead and up into the vast expanse of cloud. _Magpies_ , he noticed, ironically. Magpies and ravens, circling and darting through the branches with their midnight wings and songs.

And the clouds opened to allow more silver droplets to fall down onto the earth, and the rain washed down Daryl's face like tears.

He looked back over at Beth and Maggie as the rain washed away the blood and dirt on his skin, and sat up. _What would Hershel think?_ Daryl liked to hope he would be proud of his little girls – his fighters. And he liked to hope he would be proud of _him_ too, because Daryl really wanted to be the type of person that Hershel Greene would admire. And maybe… Just maybe…

He was.

"Daryl?"

The voice startled him, but only for a second before he turned to see the owner of it, and he released a shaky sigh of relief at the vision.

Rick, standing just across from him in the woods, Jessie's youngest son clutching his hand at his side…

And _Judith_ , tucked in his other arm and cradled against his breast.

_Judy_.

Daryl coughed at Maggie and Beth, and they both opened their teary eyes to regard the impossible spectacle through the layers of rain that felt like it was falling at seven centimetres per second. They rose to their feet together, hands clasped and intertwined, and Beth's eyes were filling with new tears.

Fresh tears. _Joyful_ tears. And she and Maggie ran over to Rick and both embraced him at once.

Sam stepped away from the weepy hug awkwardly, and looked over at Daryl.

He was shaking, fright clear in his eyes, and caked in flesh blood, probably not even his own. Daryl grunted before hauling himself up, and staggered over to the little boy. He stared up at him with massive terror-filled eyes, and started to shiver, not entirely from the cold. Daryl ignored his pain, dirtiness, and the fact that he was shirtless, and kneeled down to plant his hands on the little boy's shoulders.

He looked at Sam resolutely, and squeezed his arms.

_Pete's been hitting Jessie. Maybe, Sam too_ , Carol had told him after telling Rick.

"Yer ok. Yer safe," he said, unsure if Sam would get the meaning of what exactly he was safe from.

_He's gone. Your abusive prick of a Dad's gone forever._

_He's_ dead _._

Because if the walkers or Wolves hadn't gotten him, then _Rick_ sure as hell would have.

Sam started to cry then, apparently having held it in all this time, and he lowered his head to sob snottily. And Daryl thought he could muster the strength to pull the little boy to him and hold him then, to comfort and tell him it was okay like no one had for him.

_You're safe._

Daryl looked up at Rick as he held the crying Sam to him, Rick who too was covered in blood and grime, with Maggie and Beth still attached to him like limpets. He met Daryl's gaze and gave him a fond smile, and nodded out of gratitude for what he was doing for Sam, before returning his attention to the hysterical sisters who were sobbing on Judith. _Judy_.

The baby was still in Rick's arms, but Beth was practically half holding her so Rick eventually just passed her to her. She stared at Judy for a moment, eyes laced with overwhelm and wonder, before cuddling her and breathing in her decay-slash-baby powdered scent.

_Judy's gone?_

_She's just gone._

Turns out gone didn't mean automatically dead after all. If they were _probably_ dead, and highly unlikely to make it out… There was still a chance they were alive. If you didn't see them go down with your own eyes, if no one did, then there was still a chance. And that was what Beth had understood all along.

_Just means they were alive four or five hours ago._

If he just believed… Believed there was a chance…

_They're alive!_

Then maybe things would be alright.


	17. This pack is my blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I write the last line, and then I write the line before that. I find myself writing backwards for a while, until I have a solid sense of how that ending sounds and feels. You have to know what your voice sounds like at the end of the story, because it tells you how to sound when you begin." ~ John Irving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here we are, on the last chapter. The closing act to end it all.
> 
> I'm so grateful for all your support, and I hope this ending pleases you, but do note that it isn't one of those endings that ties everything up in a neat little bow. Some of you might want an epilogue or something, but I'm not going to write one. This, I feel, is the right kind of end for this story. Why? Because it's realistic. Happy, fluffy, fairytale endings don't happen in real life, so this is going to end on an open note. I think it's better that way though, because then you can imagine your own end, therefore making everyone happy. The core of this story was not just Beth coming back to Daryl and making everything all better again, because that's not how things work. Beth coming back doesn't just fix everything, but it makes it better, and that's what this story is about... Things trying to be better. Daryl trying to make things better, and him teaching Beth that things can still get better - like she's been telling him all along.
> 
> So without ado, enjoy the final chapter.

Daryl sighed as he sat beside the camp fire in the woods, and cracked his sore joints. Embers were flickering with quiet kindly crackles, and grey smoke rose up into the expanse of darkness overhead.

The magpies and ravens were no longer in sight, but occasionally, when things went quiet enough, there were a few soft whispers. A few gentle tweets. And Daryl knew they were still there, watching over them, and singing their songs that took root in their bones, giving them the courage to go on.

Beth and Maggie were snuggled up together in a crappy little blanket on the opposite side of the fire—asleep—Beth's head on her sister's shoulder, and Maggie's rested on top of hers. Daryl observed them from where he sat, watching the orange glow of the flames paint their different toned skins in a tender, amber shade.

After Beth's little episode earlier, when Maggie had pulled through and managed to calm her, the two had stayed together and not left each other's sides. They lingered within a metre of personal space, hands often joined, and if not, their arms were linked instead, and they sat together when the little group finally settled down for the night beneath a cluster of particularly large trees. It was like it used to be back on the farm, on the winter run, and at the prison. Before Hershel was bleeped out of the already small Greene family unit. When they could still pretend to be giddy siblings. Back before the nightmare had manifested and taken form.

They'd eventually regrouped with Sasha, Rosita and Carl after the little episode. Sasha was curled up in a little ball beside Abraham and Rosita beneath the trees, and Michonne had just recently joined the huddle. _'For warmth'_ , or some lame excuse she felt she needed to offer like that just to be able to be close to the others. Glenn was on watch a few metres away, and Carol was holding a sleeping Judith in her arms, Sam leaning into her side, also asleep.

Despite the wave of despair and tension… Things were relatively calm.

Not _pleasant_ , but calm, or as calm as they could get at the end of the world.

Rick and Carl eventually came back from wherever it was they'd been, and Rick patted his son on the back to convey the message for him to get some sleep, so Carl wandered over to the sleeping bundle and snuggled up to Michonne. Rick came and sat beside Daryl then, and the two were silent for a while, content with just staring into the low crackling flames. But eventually... It had to be asked.

"What happened back there?" Daryl asked.

Rick shifted against the fallen tree trunk, and rested his arms on his knees.

"…I went back to get Deanna and Jessie," he said, "But things went wrong, an' I couldn't get 'em out'a there... I failed 'em."

"Ain't your fault, man."

"Maybe not, but still... Seeing that place go down, that place we finally found after all this time. Seein' that fall and burn with a herd of walkers stormin' it... It was tough. The farm wasn't so bad, the prison was a hard one, but this... This was too."

Daryl felt a pain of sorrow at the memory of the prison. Of that long last home that would truly be the only place Daryl would ever give the label _home_ to.

_We can live here_ ; he'd managed to decipher on a half-burned page of Beth's diary, that she'd tossed into the flames to keep them both warm. Her dreams, written down on paper; _wishes_ , burning to keep them alive.

_We can live here for the rest of our lives._

Daryl watched a log on the fire light up orange and then snap.

_Liar_.

"I went in there an' went straight for Deanna's house," Rick continued, "'cause I just had this hunch that was where they'd all be. I was all covered in walker guts by then, so when I got to t'house they thought I was one of 'em."

"So they were at t'house?"

"Yeah. Deanna an' her family, Jessie, Pete, Sam. No Ron though, but I didn't think much of it at the time. Turns out he was beatin' the crap out'a Carl and runnin' off with Judith… Because of him, she could've died today, and it would'a been entirely his fault. And mine too."

"Carol said they found 'im dead. Ron, I mean... What happened to him? Walkers get 'im?"

"Sorta... When I got inside the house, shit was goin' down. Pete was shouting, Deanna was shouting, everybody was shouting; an' I'm tellin' them: _You gotta keep quiet, The dead'll hear_. But Pete didn't listen, threw a fit on my head and got Reg killed instead of me. So I did what had to be done… I killed _him_."

Daryl thought of Sam, of the conflicting emotions the boy must have felt in that moment. The pain of losing his father, his blood... And the cruel _relief_ of being freed from the unfair torment and abuse.

_He's gone. Your abusive prick of a Dad's gone forever._

Sam's source of pain was dead, and the boy could rest easy knowing that fact.

But there was still the issue of his mother, who clearly hadn't returned with them, nor Deanna. So the question was... What had happened after?

"I told the others that we had to leave the bodies, couldn't risk anything, but Deanna and Spencer weren't having any of it. I think that was the moment she really gave up, y'know? So she put the barrel of a gun to her temple, and pulled the trigger, left Spencer crying over her dead body. An' he wouldn't listen to what I was saying, so I left him there to die too."

"Ya did what ya had to to get _others_ out. To _save_ 'em... We do what we gotta do, _then_ we get to live."

Rick nodded slowly.

"I got them to cover themselves in walker guts like I had, and we went out through the herd in camouflage, and for a while things were going ok. Until they _stop_ going ok… We ran into Ron on the way, an' the kid had Judith in his arms. When I saw his hand clamped over her mouth to shut her up, so tight she could hardly breathe, I just lost it. Grabbed her from him an' tucked her under my clothes, an' nearly shot him in the face right then an' there. I saw him and I wanted to kill him."

_I saw that woman Dawn. She didn't mean to do it. I knew it, I saw it. But I wanted to kill her..._ _I remember I just wondered if it even mattered, one way or another._

"But you didn't." Daryl offered, "You didn't kill 'im in cold blood."

_'Cause you ain't a monster._

_None of us are. At least not yet._

"Well I technically did because o' what happened next," he sighed, "I was askin' Ron why the hell he had Judith, and where was Carl, when a walker came up behind and grabbed him. Sunk its teeth into him, as well as a couple 'others, an' 'course that didn't go down so well with Jessie. She stared screaming, reaching for him and pulling him away. And she reached out and grabbed my hand as they caught her too, looked at me with these huge desperate eyes and begged me not to let go... And that's what I did. I let go, with Sam stood there watchin' me with horror as his brother and Mom got torn apart right in front of him."

_You're safe_.

"I grabbed his hand and ran as fast as I could, Judith pressed to my chest, and just kept going... And we got out."

Daryl tried to mask his disappointment at the lack of mention of Aaron and the rest of the missing group, and he kicked a pile of leaves with his boot into the fire.

"Did ya see any of the others whilst this was happenin'?"

Rick shook his head.

_If you didn't see it with your own eyes, they're not dead,_ the Beth in his head argued.

Her voice was becoming even harder to stub out recently, and frankly Daryl didn't even want to stub it out anymore.

"No," Rick said quietly, "I didn't see any of 'em. Not a trace."

_Believe, Daryl. Believe in them. You didn't see it. No one did. It's not set in stone._

Daryl looked back at Rick.

"They might still be alive."

Rick gave a half smile and looked up at the night sky. "Yeah..." he said vaguely, "They might be."

_Show me you believe._ _Show me you're not afraid._

"...Jus' have a little faith, brother."

_Faith? Faith ain't done shit for us._

No.

That was wrong, totally wrong, because like he'd thought before, faith had given Hershel everything good in his life. Given him a reason to believe, because his eyes were open, and he was willing to see. And he understood. Just like Daryl had finally started to, after so many years of purposelessness and torment.

The Beth and Hershel inside his head smiled.

_Faith has done_ everything _for us._

.

.

After a day of waiting in that same spot, walkers stumbling across them was becoming more of a common occurrence, and eventually Rick made the call for them to keep on moving. Not everyone was happy, some arguably angrier than the rest, but still they respected the decision.

The night before they were supposed to leave, Daryl was on watch a few meters away from the others, nestled under a tall tree with a knife his knife, which Beth had returned to him, in his hands. _Her_ knife was gone, maybe forever, along with his crossbow which had protected him for years. Those weapons that had held so much significance to them, and given him such hope… Gone. So were Tara, Eugene, Aaron and Eric, Edwards, and all those people Beth had worked so hard to get out.

But things that went missing were starting to have a tendency to show up again recently, so he wasn't _entirely_ despairing about the situation.

The sound of feet toddling over leaves alerted him to a presence, and he turned to see Beth coming up to him with cupped hands that looked to have something in them. She stopped next to him and looked down, smile tender and considerate before she sat herself down on the ground next to him.

She held her hands out to him then, and in her cupped palms were plump blackberries staining her flesh a deep purple. She offered him them and he smiled, taking one between his fingers and pressing it onto his tongue, and she smiled knowingly like they were munching on forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.

"You ok?" he asked through munching.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek and flattened one particularly big blackberry with her thumb, lifting it to suck the juice from.

"…Not really. I don't know if I ever will completely. But for now… Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good… 'Cause I'm ok for now too."

She closed one hand over the one holding the berries and her expression fell. Her hands lowered and the berries slipped from the holding and fell onto the ground where they laid lost in the leaves, still damp from the on-and-off rainfall.

"Do you think they're dead?" she asked gently.

He stared down at the fallen blackberries.

"I think… that we shouldn't make assumptions when we don' know for sure. Least, that's what someone once told me."

The corners of her mouth curved upward and she glanced at him through dark lashes. The _'W'_ and scabbed line ripped up her cheek made the smile look treacherous, but there was still a trace of youth to it that Daryl couldn't quite put his finger on. He looked at those scrapes and bruises and remembered the way her face used to look, uncharred and painted in candlelight, and the vast contrast was starting to melt away into just the same face.

Because she wasn't some animal, or victim, or soldier of war. She was what she had always been. The simple thing that'd captivated him with its simplicity and tenderness… Something so fresh, and young, and light.

_Family or not, she won't be the same girl you knew after travelling with this group of scavengers._

She was just her. Still just her.

_Different or not, she's still Beth._

Still.

And the biggest contrast about her was her contrast to _him_ , the line between light and dark that had eventually been scrubbed away to allow the two elements to merge. Because it wasn't just black and white like he'd thought it was; wasn't just light and dark. _He_ wasn't all dark, and she wasn't all light. And that was okay. It was all okay. Maybe not always okay, like she'd said, but for now it was, and that was what really mattered.

_Not who you were,_ her voice reminded him _, Or who you want to become… Who you are_ now _. That's what matters._

_That's what's always mattered._

"We all thought _you_ were dead, remember? We made that assumption, an' it turned out to be wrong. Ya made it out 'cause you're one of the toughest people I know, even if ya don't know it, you are. You might not be like Michonne, or Carol, or Maggie… but you're still tough."

"I know,"

His brow rose at that, and she smiled wider.

"I know I'm tough, I do now. It only took two years into the apocalypse, a few months with you, and getting' kidnapped by police officer psychos for me to realise it."

_She didn't know it…_

"And if you can finally see what a good person you are, after all this time… Then I think I can see how strong I am too."

_But she_ is _._

He leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek, right on the jagged scars, and she leaned her head to the side with a little leer. She closed her eyes and leaned up to press her forehead to his, and when she did Daryl could feel the bumpiness and scabbing of the _'W'_. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling, and brushed his thumb along her jaw.

"Then I guess if you can say it, I can say it too."

Her eyelids slid open and she stared into his, with bright blue suns in dusty pink skies.

"Say what?"

"Ha… What'd'ya _think_?"

His thumb brushed her chin and he smiled. A tiny, helpless smile of a man who'd fallen so far, then picked himself back up again and carried on walking, because that was what he did.

Walking, dead _and_ alive, towards something… Anything. A bowman running after that prized songbird, following its melody through the endless woods until he just couldn't walk any more. Holding on.

"I love wolves."

That hadn't exactly been what Beth _or_ Daryl had been expecting, and they both stared at each other with surprise… before bursting out into laughter.

"Um, okay?" she giggled.

"That's not what I meant to… Shit."

She laughed harder and squeezed the collar of the new shirt he was wearing. His hand came up to curl around her wrist, bare of bracelets, and his thumb traced the risen pink line there. Her breath hitched at the action and she squeezed his collar tighter.

"I like wolves too," she said, "But not those kind of Wolves we left back there."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Do you think _they're_ dead?"

"I dunno. But I hope that if they aren't… They find someone who can show 'em they don't have to just kill everything in their path, that that ain't what they have to do. Someone who can show 'em that maybe… they can be good too. Someday."

Her brows rose.

"You think there're people out there that can make a difference in people like that?" she asked.

"I don't jus' think… I _know_."

She tilted her head and smiled smoothly, a smile that was so much her, proving the Beth from before was very much still _this_ Beth.

_She's still Beth._

"Getting' a little cocky with all this stuff you suddenly know, aren't you?"

He just grinned.

.

.

Who'd have thought that two weeks walking through the forests of Virginia would result in them crossing paths with Aaron and Tara? And not long after… Some of the members of Beth's group, _and_ Dr Edwards. Had having faith done that? Daryl didn't know, but he wasn't opposed to using it as a reason to explain the unlikely miracle.

The bad news however, because there always was some despite the good… was that Eric was dead. Eugene too, after being bit by a turned Eric, and put down by Tara. So naturally Aaron and Tara were still down and in mourning, like the rest of them. Things couldn't be _too_ good, could they, after all? That was just the fucking price they had to pay if they wanted just a sliver of good.

Daryl strolled through the woods beside Aaron, trying to ignore the man's heavy footfalls and concentrate on catching them some dinner.

They were close to Richmond now, having worked their way down the country and back into familiar territory.

Why? To do what was probably the _stupidest_ fucking thing they'd done in a _long_ time, which was really saying something with everything that had gone down as of late.

Something so mad, so crazy, that Daryl was honestly shocked by Rick's speech when he told them.

They were all crazy, he knew that by now, all completely damn crazy, but this was another level of crazy.

Just the right level insane for them.

"What's the deal with this prison we're headed to anyway?" Aaron asked.

Daryl snorted. "Couldn't tell ya even if I knew."

_We're getting the prison back._

It was no shock to learn that Rick was crazy, he had been all this time, and this just proved it. Trekking back down the country, hundreds of miles back to Georgia, right where they'd started, even after how far they'd come… That was the plan of a madman. And they were just as mad for agreeing to it and following him.

But why _were_ they following him then? If it was so crazy and impossible… Why didn't they just come out and tell him _no_? Even if he _was_ their leader?

Because Daryl knew that deep down, there was a little part in each of them that dared to think an irrational plan like this might actually work. That after all this time… all this running… there was a part of them that thought the direction they were running in had been wrong all along. That really, the right direction had been going back after all.

_Don't look back_. That was the motto they'd lived by for years now, but was it right? Was it really moral enough to live by?

_Keep running and don't look back._

Because if everything fell in the end… if everything burned… Then surely the flames would eventually go out? Surely the fire wolf would finally lick its lips and run off, leaving the carcass behind infested with maggots.

And if they'd cleared the prison of maggots before… Then maybe they could do it again.

_What's the deal?_

_Where are we going?_

_Where we should've been going all this time. The right direction, the right destination, the familiar dwelling we've neglected for so long. The thing that had been the answer to everything all along, but just took walking hundreds of miles away and almost being eaten by wolves to realise…_

Home _._

"We're goin' _home_ , Aaron."

They slung their kills over their shoulders and walked back through the leaves to where the rest of the group were waiting, letting the growing black swallow them. And Daryl's dreams were no longer governed by that same nightmare that had haunted him for months and months, no longer dominated by misery and anguish.

No more dreams of a bullet; a blonde; and trails of deep red blood. Not anymore.

Just dreams of home.


End file.
